


Oh, You're My Best Friend

by patronusfeder



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 64,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patronusfeder/pseuds/patronusfeder
Summary: Crowley returns to Aziraphale after having been held hostage for five long years. And emotions that have always been there grow even stronger.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 136





	1. First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first english fanfic and it's probably full of mistakes so if someone's interested in being my beta or something i'd be more than happy to share my stuff before posting it :)

"Crowley!"

Aziraphale fell into the demon's arms. He wanted to hold him, wanted to feel his warmth. And he never, ever wanted to let him go again.  
But he did.

The moment Aziraphale had flung himself at him Crowley had tried to back away. And the angel, too excited to read the signs, had pulled the demon close to himself anyway. And he had felt him shiver in his arms, had felt the demon's breath on his cheek that had stopped and then fastened. His whole body had began trembling.  
And so Aziraphale let go of him.

"Crowley, my dear boy."

Just now he actually saw the demon.  
His usually soft cheeks looked terribly pale and they had sunken deep into his sharp bones. Aziraphale knew angels and demons did not necessarily need to eat and drink to survive but Crowley looked like he hadn't have a good meal for ages.  
Even his hair that fell into his pale face had gotten longer and much greasier than the angel had ever seen it before. It looked like it had nearly lost all its fiery colour.

Nothing about Crowley looked as easy and relaxed as it had before. Every muscle in his weary body seemed to be tense, on the verge of a fight or flight response.

But the worse part, Aziraphale noticed them with a small gasp, were all the bruises. He could see them on his chin, could see the small cuts on his cheeks. Dark circles were digging themselves into Crowley's soft skin under his eyes.  
Even they seemed to have lost their fire.

He looked awful.

"I -" Aziraphale didn't know what to say. "Get in. I'll make you a cup of tea. Yes, right, and something to eat while we're at it," he added with a quick glance towards the demon's thin figure.

Crowley, who hadn't so much as muttered a single word since Aziraphale had opened his front door for him, followed the angel into his bookshop in silence. 

Walking seemed to hurt him. After every small step he managed to make a soft hiss left his lips as if he was walking on consecrated ground.  
Aziraphale eyed him up suspiciously.

A thousand questions were buzzing through his brain, all at once.  
Where have you been? What happened? Who did this to you? How did you get here? Why did you come to me? Tell me, what can I do to help?  
But he did not dare to ask any of them.

Instead, he showed Crowley into the small room behind the shop that they used to spend time in, getting drunk, laughing and bickering with each other. He pointed at his old leathery sofa that was covered with several books at the moment. A thick layer of dust had settled down on everyone of them, after having been abondoned there for so long.  
Crowley had always been Aziraphale's only guest here. And his absence had meant the absence of a real reason to clean. Or to use the sofa for something else than more storage room for his books.

"Here," Aziraphale said, quickly tidying up the mess he had left on the sofa. "Sit yourself down, dear. I'll be back in a second."

He did not even wait for Crowley to sit down, before hurrying away again and into the smaller room next door that he had modified into a kitchen a few years ago now.  
He grabbed his ancient-looking teapot and two cups from a shelf and put on some hot water, before looking for the small box with teabags he kept in the kitchen. He found some bags of passionflower tea and nodded to himself. That would hopefully do the trick and calm his and Crowley's nerves a bit.

"Some tea, dear. This should help with your nerves," said the angel as he gently put the cup of hot tea in front of Crowley.  
He took it very slowly from him as if he wasn't sure whether he was actually allowed to touch it.

In the kitchen Aziraphale had almost smiled when he had chosen the mug. It was the one Crowley had given him years ago. It was his favourite mug, the white one with angel wings.  
But the demon showed no reaction to Aziraphale's choice, even though the angel had dared to hope for one.

Crowley simply held the mug in his hands, his bony fingers wrapped tightly around it to warm them. He was still trembling, Aziraphale observed.

"Do you - Do you need something else to wear?" the angel asked, eyeing Crowley and the dirty clothes he wore. They looked like the clothes of someone who had been through a lot, to phrase it mildly. "I mean, I could just lend you something," he added, waiting for any response of the demon.

Crowley just nodded.  
Aziraphale nodded back at him.

He went to reach out for the demon but, remembering what had happened at his front door earlier, he drew his hand back again. Instead, he put his fingers into his little vest pockets where he knew that they couldn't do any harm.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled before fleeing into the tiny flat that he was keeping above his bookshop.

When he arrived in his small bedroom Aziraphale went for his wardrobe, looking for some clothes that he could lend Crowley.  
But he noticed quickly that he did not own anything that had the right size. Aziraphale knew he was a bit smaller in height than his fellow demon and a lot softer too, especially around the gut. And the angel did not exactly own the kind of clothes that Crowley would choose for himself. Everything either had some tartan on it or was of a brown or sweet biscuit-like colour. He did not own a single black piece of clothing, not even so much as a piece of underwear or a pair of socks.  
Black had never really been his colour, after all.

Sighing softly, Aziraphale simply chose the biggest and thickest pullover he could find in his entire wardrobe. The wooden colour wasn't exactly what he imagined was Crowley's favourite but he decided it would do for now. He also chose a pair of whoolen socks and a pair of blue pyjama bottoms that would probably be the most comfortable choice at the moment.

He then returned to Crowley, all his clothes pressed tightly against his chest so that he would not lose any of them on his way.  
He found the demon the way he had left him. He was still sitting on the sofa, the hot cup of the in his slightly trembling hands. He did not seem to have taken a single sip of it.

"Crowley, my dear, you did not drink anything at all," Aziraphale said, worrying that maybe something was wrong with the tea he had made.

The demon lifted his head wearily and looked at Aziraphale for a moment, still not saying anything at all.

"Are you alright, Crowley?" the angel asked, before shaking his head. "No, what a silly quiestion. Of course you are not." He sighed. "Please tell me, what can I do to help you?"

The angel put down the clothes he was still holding in his arms. He tried to think of something he could do.  
There was an idea.

"You're cold, right?" he asked. Crowley just nodded again and Aziraphale did the same. "How about a nice hot bath?"

He felt a smile climbing to his lips when he saw the demon nodding once more.  
He grabbed the clothes he had just brought with him and then motioned for Crowley to follow him.

"The bath's upstairs," he explained. "Come, I'll help you with the water if you like."

The demon followed him in silence.  
His steps still seemed to take every last bit of what little energy was left in Crowley from him. It hurt Aziraphale to see him like that and at this point he wanted nothing more than to take it all from him, to share Crowley's agony so the demon would not have to carry the weight alone.  
But he knew well that nothing would heal Crowley as fast as he wanted it to happen.

Patience. They had to be patient now.  
And there was nothing Aziraphale could do but to give Crowley time. Enough time to find his voice again and time to feel ready and to explain what had happened to him.  
One step after the other. That's all they could do for now.

"Here, you can wear these when you're finished," the angel said, putting the clothes he was carrying in his arms on a small cupboard in his bathroom.

He rolled up his sleeves and sat down on the edge of his bathtub. He proceeded to lean over to turn on the water when he heard a rough voice behind him.  
It sounded so very close to breaking that it did break Aziraphale's heart.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said.

He turned and looked at him.  
Crowley stood before him, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

"Thank you," the demon wispered, his voice even closer to breaking now. The sound of it sent a shiver down Aziraphale's spine.  
"Of course," he said with a sad smile, before turning back to the water again, hiding the tears that were stinging in his eyes.

"'ziraphale?"

He hesitated for a moment. Then he turned again to look over his shoulder. Crowley's arms were still wrapped around himself tightly but he managed to make a small step towards the angel.  
He looked utterly lost.

"What is it, my dear?" Aziraphale forced a smile on his face, tried to convince Crowley that everything was fine.  
That he was safe now.

"Would you -" His voice cracked and Aziraphale felt another shiver running down his spine. "Would you help me?" The demon seemed to swallow before he continued. "Please," he whispered, lowering his head in shame.

Aziraphale turned off the water and then tested the temperature of it with his hand.  
He looked back at Crowley.

"Come here," he said softly and watched the demon slowly lift his head again. "Of course, I'll help you, my dear."

He reached out and gently motioned for the demon to come closer. Crowley did move but his legs looked like they would give up any moment now.  
He looked fragile, more than Aziraphale had ever seen him before. The calm saunter in his walk was gone entirely.

"Do you think you can undress yourself?" the angel asked him when Crowley finally came to a halt right in front of him.

The demon slowly shook his head.  
He wouldn't meet the angel's eyes.

"I'll help you, then," Aziraphale said. "If you would like me to?" Now Crowley nodded and, again, Aziraphale did the same, rising from the edge of his bathtub to step closer. "That means that I'll have to touch you, Crowley," he said. "Do you consent, my dear?"

Crowley hesitated for a moment.  
Then he nodded once more.

The angel gave him a small smile and came closer, helped Crowley to loosen the grip with which he was still holding his own shoulders.  
Then he helped him out of his dirty clothes. All of them went straight into the trash bin that Aziraphale kept in his bathroom. He doubted that Crowley would want to wear them ever again even if they miracled them clean and whole again.

With every layer of clothing that came off Crowley's shivering body the angel understood more and more how skinny he had actually become. Every time the demon breathed in Aziraphale could see his ribs under his pale skin. His collarbones looked even sharper than they used to and they were as bruised as his chin. Even his legs that had always been so very long and skinny seemed only to consist of skin and bone.

Aziraphale felt himself shivering slightly when he found that there were even more bruises all over the demon's body.  
He did not want to think about the things that must have happened to Crowley during the time he had been away. The question where he had gone rose in Aziraphale everytime he looked at the demon's face but he did not dare to ask. So he kept quiet.

"One last step," he whispered when he had finally undressed Crowley.

He held out his hand and waited, wondering whether he would take it.  
Crowley did take it after a few more seconds of hesitation and Aziraphale helped him into the bathtub.

The demon sank into the warm water and started shivering again. But it seemed that the warmth did comfort him.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Aziraphale asked and Crowley who clutched the angel's hand almost violently now shook his head.  
The angel reached for Crowley and touched his wrist with his second hand.

"I'll stay," he told him gently. He started stroking his hand and gave him a little smile. "It's alright. I am here, Crowley, I'll stay."

He continued smiling, even though everything in him was hurting. He wanted to cry until there were no tears left. He wanted to run.  
But he pulled himself together and gave Crowley a small nod, smiled at him once more.

Crowley stayed silent.

"I think I would like to try and wash your hair, my dear," Aziraphale said after a while.  
He desperately wanted Crowley to say something, anything, really, but the demon just nodded again.

The angel fought back a sigh and then nodded as well, before getting up from the ground he had been sitting on. He reached for his shampoo that smelled like cinnamon and oranges and that had been a gift once. A gift from Crowley.  
He gently rubbed the creamy substance into the demon's scalp, even went so far as to massage the hardened muscles in his neck. They almost felt like iron under the angel's fingertips.

But it seemed to help.  
Because after a while Crowley's eyes dropped close every now and then and he even sank into the angel's touch a bit.

With a sponge he cleaned the demon's skin. He used his hands to cleanse his face and all the small cuts on it gently.  
He tried to be as careful as possible so he would not hurt Crowley. But every now and then the demon hissed softly and Aziraphale realised he had touched another bruise or cut.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered every time it happened and the demon opened his eyes for a moment and just nodded as if to say that it was alright.

In the end Aziraphale rinsed his hair and with a tie he had miracled into his hands he fixed Crowley's hair into a small bun on top of his head.  
He hoped it would prevent his hair from falling into his eyes all the time.

"Would you like to get out now?" Aziraphale asked then. He touched Crowley's now warm and clean shoulder gently.  
Again the demon slightly leaned into the touch before he nodded once more.

"Let me help you, then," the angel said with a soft smile on his lips.

He pulled the demon out of his bathtub and let him lean against his shoulder for support.  
Aziraphale then unfolded a huge soft towel and put it around Crowley's body that had stopped shivering some time ago now.

"Should I have a look at those bruises?" the angel asked while helping Crowley with the towel but he just shook his head.  
"Just leave 'em be," he whispered wearily.

Aziraphale hesitated. He sighed and nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Here, wear this. It will keep you warm."

He gave him the clothes he had taken from his room earlier and tried not to think about the demon's bruises much longer.  
But it was hard for him to forget about them.

Crowley took the clothes and got into them. Then he looked at himself, eyeing the angel's clothes almost suspiciously.

The pullover he had given him would have been too big for him even if he had not been as skinny as he was now. It hung from his body like he was wearing some sort of bag and the sleeves, that Aziraphale usually had to roll up a few times so they would fit for himself, did not even reach Crowley's wrists. The legs of the trousers were also too short and one would be able to see Crowley's ankles if it wasn't for the thick whoolen socks he wore on his feet.

The demon wriggled his toes a bit and a small gasp left his lips. It had almost sounded like a very weak laugh.  
Aziraphale looked at him, smiling.

They had done it.  
They had managed their first step.


	2. Sleep Tight, Dear

"I'll make you something to eat, yes?" Aziraphale offered while he watched Crowley sitting down on his old sofa again.  
He still looked rather worn out but Aziraphale could see that the bath had been a good idea.

Some colour had returned to Crowley's pale cheeks and the various cuts on his skin did not look as bad anymore as they had done before Aziraphale had cleansed them. The bruises, though, still made the angel feel sick to his stomach whenever he looked at them.  
And with a sad sting in his chest Aziraphale noticed that even with the bit of colour that had returned to them, Crowley's cheeks still looked awfully thin and sharp.

"Don't need to eat," Crowley mumbled, reaching for the cup of tea that Aziraphale had given him a few moments ago.  
"Oh yes, you do," the angel said firmly, his voice a bit too sharp.

He brought his fists to his sides and sighed softly before kneeling down in front of the sofa.  
Crowley looked at him. He looked so very tired.

"You can't see yourself right now, Crowley," the angel said. His voice sounded much softer now. "You look awful. Like you haven't slept or eaten anything for years." He gave him a serious look. "And I know you most likely haven't."

He slowly lifted his hand, aching to touch Crowley, desperate to show him how much his safety meant to him. But the demon, though not backing away from Aziraphale this time, just looked at the angel, his eyes asking him not to.  
And so Aziraphale pulled his hand back again and sighed once more.

"You need to eat something," he said after a moment of silence. "Crowley, please."

The demon looked at him for another moment, not saying anything. Then he just closed his eyes and sighed as well, nodding gently.

"Alright," he said. "You win, I'll eat something."

Aziraphale smiled and clapped his hands in sudden excitement.

"Yes, right, let me see," he said rather to himself than to Crowley, while walking into the kitchen and grabbing whatever he could find there. "Alright, I've got some beans and - oh, well. Looks like I've got nothing but beans."

He waited. He tried to listen whether Crowley had to say something about it but it did not really surprise Aziraphale that the demon remained silent.

It would be beans or nothing, then. Aziraphale decided that beans were much better than nothing and so he made some baked beans for the demon.  
He found the remains of some soft bread and decided to put it on the plate as well. Then he grabbed a fork, a spoon and a knife from one of his cabinets and went to bring it all to the waiting demon next door.

"I, er, I don't have any toast," the angel admitted while he put everything on the small table that stood in front of the sofa. "You see, I did not expect any guests tonight so I just -" He shrugged. "I think this bread and the beans will do. Just let me know if you need anything else, yes?"

Crowley just nodded and took the plate Aziraphale gave him. His mug was empty.

"Oh, would you like more tea?" the angel asked and he took the empty mug, already on his way to go and get Crowley more.  
"You - Aziraphale, you don't have to do this, you know that," Crowley said and he put down his fork absentmindedly. "I - I don't want to bother you."

Aziraphale stopped and turned around, looking at Crowley.

"But wouldn't you do the same for me?" he asked. "I mean, if I were the one standing on your doorstep, looking like I've been through sh- like I've been through hell. Wouldn't you take care of me as well?"

The demon remained silent and, pushing his beans from one side of the plate to the other, he seemed to be thinking about his words.

"Yes, I would," he answered, but without looking at Aziraphale.

The angel nodded, he had thought so.  
He brought Crowley's empty mug into the kitchen and made him another cup of tea.

He did not know what had happened to the demon but it had changed him and it hurt Aziraphale to see him like that. To feel this helpless.  
He just wanted the old Crowley back. The same old Crowley he had spent six thousand years with. The same old Crowley he knew better than he seemed to know himself sometimes.

When Crowley had disappeared Aziraphale would have done anything to have him back again. He wouldn't even have spent a second thought on anything else. He had been looking for him for five years, after all, and during this time he had gone after every single clue, had tried almost everything to find out where he was.  
He had not expected Crowley to return to him like that. Weak, as if all his old energy had vanished from him during the time he had been gone.

At some point Aziraphale had started asking himself whether he should be asking Heaven for help. It had felt like it could be worth a try. And if not, at least he would have known that he had actually tried everything he could.

He couldn't remember the number of times he had stood above the chalk circle he had drawn on his floor years and years ago. He had been possessed by the thought of trying to speak to The Almighty, of asking Her for help.  
But in the end he had not dared to ask. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He had felt like a traitor, having even considered it as an option.

And he knew it was true.  
He and Crowley had both turned their backs on their sides the moment they had gone to Tadfield to prevent the apocalypse. He knew he couldn't expect any help from Above anymore and when he had actually started to think about it he hadn't been sure anymore whether he even wanted that help.

He couldn't be sure it had not been their fault Crowley had been gone.  
Aziraphale had always expected Hell to be the one resbonsible for Crowley's disappearing. He had always thought that it must have been them who had taken him.  
But how could he know? How could he be so sure they hadn't had any help from Heaven?

Aziraphale was tired of these thoughts as they had been buzzing through his head for five long years now.

He sighed and buried his face in his palms, trying to calm himself.

These thoughts were not doing him any good.  
He had Crowley back and he knew he should be thankful for that. He was. He had wanted nothing more than to have Crowley back. But he wasn't the one who had found him, was he?  
Crowley had come and had found his way back to him, just like he had always done.

"'ziraphale?"

Aziraphale whirled around, startled.  
Crowley had followed him into the kitchen and he looked at him, worry on his face.

"Tea's ready," the angel said, forcing a fake smile on his lips to hide the pain, that he was feeling. He did not want Crowley to see it.  
He had seen enough already.

"I'm sorry, angel."

Aziraphale froze.

For more than five years he had not heard that word from Crowley's mouth.  
For five years he had imagined what it would feel like when he would finally hear it again. He had imagined again and again what it would be like if Crowley came back. Whether he would use that old nickname again, just the way he had always done.

But it felt so different from what he had imagined it like. Crowley's voice didn't sound as easy and soft as it used to sound. There was a weight upon both of their shoulders that they had been carrying for five years. And it hadn't just vanished when Crowley had knocked on the angel's door, it hadn't dissolved into thin air.  
Aziraphale had imagined that differently as well.

"Please, don't say that, Crowley." Aziraphale felt hot tears stinging in his eyes, and he hurried to wipe them away when they started rolling down his cheeks. "There is no reason to be sorry. No, I'm glad you came here." He gave up trying to wipe the tears away. "I missed you, Crowley," he admitted instead. "I missed you so much."

The demon came a few steps closer and Aziraphale could see the uncertainty in his moves, he could see the anxiety creeping up his neck.

"I missed you too, angel," he managed to say, his voice close to breaking again.  
He reached out his hand and waited for the angel to take it.

And Aziraphale did. He took Crowley's hand into his own and pressed it to his chest tightly.  
He wanted to never let go of him again.

"I can't believe it's you. I can't believe you're back," the angel whispered and he couldn't fight back the quiet sob that emerged.  
He wanted to pull Crowley into his arms, he was still aching to touch and to hold him. But for now it had to be enough to hold his hand. And it was. Aziraphale felt himself soaking up the feeling of holding Crowley's hand in his own like a dry sponge would soak up water.

"I won't bother you for too long," Crowley said after another moment, not meeting the angel's eyes. "I - I promise, I'll find another place. I just - I didn't know where to go, so I -" He looked at the floor and a couple of strands of his soft hair fell into his eyes. He was looking for words. "You were the only one I could think of turning to."

Aziraphale stroked his hand gently.

"You can stay here as long as you like, Crowley," he said, finally wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I will not make you leave, you know that."  
"Thank you, angel." Crowley looked at him and even gave him a smile. It was such a tiny, painful one that Aziraphale had almost missed it but it was a smile, after all.

Aziraphale nodded.

"Just let me finish your tea, will you?" he asked and it was Crowley now who nodded.

He let go of Aziraphale's hand but he stayed in the kitchen, watching the angel silently as he worked on the tea.

It almost felt like in the old days. When Aziraphale had made them a cup of tea and Crowley had been there, watching him. He had always told him about one of his genius plans that he had impressed Hell with.  
Except this time neither of them spoke a word. They remained silent, both of them secretely enjoying the presence of each other. Every now and then they shot each other small looks as if to make sure that the other one was still there.

"I think some sleep would do you good, my dear," Aziraphale said when he handed Crowley the cup of tea he had made for him.  
Their fingers brushed but the demon did not seem to mind. Not now, at least.

"You look exhausted," the angel continued and Crowley looked at him, nodding.  
"I am," he answered and Aziraphale watched as his thumbs started stroking the rim of the mug he held in his hands. "I haven't really slept since - since the day they took me," he whispered and his voice was so thin that Aziraphale had almost missed what he had said.

He felt an ugly feeling that made his chest tighten from within.

"Not even once?" he asked, just to have something to say. He didn't know how to react, did not know what to say now that Crowley had finally said something about the time he had been away.

The demon shook his head.

"They - They didn't let me. Every time I tried they made sure I stayed awake," he explained vaguely, before taking a small sip of his tea.  
Then, quite suddenly, he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. He tried to look casual as he shoved a hand into the pocket of the pyjama bottoms he wore.  
"Anyway, let's sit down again, shall we?" he asked, nodding towards the living-room next door.

Aziraphale knew that this was it. For now Crowley probably wouldn't say much more about the things that had happened to him.  
It felt like he had put a wall between the angel and his own emotions, the things he had been through. And Aziraphale, who had known him for six thousand years, knew that he had to give him some time now.  
He would start talking if he felt ready. But he would not ever talk again if Aziraphale pushed him now. And so the angel decided to drop the topic and to follow the demon back into the living-room.

"You can use my bed, by the way," Aziraphale said after having watched Crowley for a moment from his favourite armchair.

The demon looked back at him.  
His golden eyes were fixed on the angel, waiting for him to say more.

"I mean, I have hardly ever used it," Aziraphale continued. "And to be frank, I don't even know why I still own it." He shrugged, smiling gently. "I bet it is much more comfortable, though, than this old sofa here. So you can have it and get as much sleep as you need."  
"What about you?" Crowley asked.  
"I just told you, dear, I don't use it. I barely sleep at all, you see. I usually just stay down here and read a bit and think. I could wake you and make you breakfast in the morning." He smiled at Crowley again.

Then he rose from his armchair and started gathering some of the books that were lying around everywhere.

"And I could use the spare time to finally clean the shop," he said. "Make a bit more space for the two of us, you know."

Crowley just looked at him.  
Aziraphale smiled and motioned for his empty mug which the demon handed him, looking again like he wasn't sure whether he was even allowed to be here.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale," he managed to say, "I think I'm making a lot of work for you."

The angel shook his head.

"No, Crowley, just remember what you said ealier. About you doing the same for me," he reminded him. "And now give me a minute to clean this. Then I'll show you to the bedroom."

He went into the kitchen again where he cleaned the emtpy mug and put it in the sink.

"Alright, I'm done now," he said when he came back but he noticed that Crowley had fallen asleep on the small sofa.  
It did not look very comfortable but he did not have the heart to wake Crowley, either.

Aziraphale felt a smile on his face when he looked at him and he even stayed and watched him sleep for a moment. Then he went upstairs to get a nice blanket for the demon. He found one in his bedroom and smiled again, hoping it would keep Crowley warm during the night.  
He also grabbed a pillow, just in case Crowley would need one. 

When he went back into the living-room, Crowley was still sleeping, his long legs and one of his arms now dangling from the seats.  
Aziraphale put the blanket he had brought over the demon's sleeping body. He moved his limbs back to the sofa gently, hoping not to wake him. Crowley didn't seem to notice, he just leaned into the soft material of the blanket and even started hugging the pillow as soon as he felt it near him.  
Aziraphale smiled and stroked the demon's head a few times, brushing a bit of soft hair from his face.

"Sleep tight, my dear boy," he whispered before leaving Crowley on the sofa.

He went into the part of his rooms that made up his shop and started cleaning, just like he had told Crowley earlier.  
He knew it would take some time before everything would be as clean again as back when he had bought the rooms but he was actually looking forward to it. He had enough time.


	3. Just A Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks so far! i didn't really expect to get any recognition at all, so thank you so much!  
> also, i kind of have been struggling with the translation of this chapter so feel free to point out mistakes ':)

Walking on tiptoes, Aziraphale sneaked through his little bookshop. He was trying hard not to wake Crowley who was still sleeping next door.  
After a few minutes of cleaning the shop he had noticed all the sound he made and he had started worrying that it would wake the demon eventually. Since then he was watching his every move to make sure he made no further noise. He had even gone back to Crowley and dimmed the light in the living-room so the demon wouldn't be bothered by it while he slept.

At some point, it must have been sometime between two and three o'clock in the morning, Aziraphale had had an idea. He had taken more and more of his books out of their shelves and had started sorting them anew. For a while, though, he had not quite been able to decide whether he should sort them by author, by genre or by age. He had even thought about sorting them by colour or maybe in alphabetical order.  
Maybe people would get confused if he thought of an order that was complicated enough. Maybe it would make them leave again before buying anything as they would not be able to find exactly what they were looking for. 

Aziraphale liked that thought.

For a short moment he even consideted sorting his books by height but he didn't really like the idea and so he dismissed it again.  
He loved walking around in his shop, letting his hand slide from book to book, feeling the different heights and spines of the books beneath his fingertips.

In the end he decided to sort the books by the same order he had kept them for years now.  
At some point he had started ordering them by how much he liked the book or the author. His favourite books were carefully hidden away in the very back of the shop, his shelf for all his Wilde first editions in the room where Crowley was sleeping at the moment so no customer would ever find them.

He did not really want to change that.

Aziraphale decided to leave his books the way they had been for years. But he did start putting away all the spare books that were lying around on the ground, on the few chairs and even on the old and dusty counter, next to the rusty cashbox that had not been working for ages now.

He knew there were a couple more books upstairs in the small flat that he was keeping above his shop. But he was too afraid of waking Crowley and so he did not dare to go and get them now.  
He would do that later.

When Aziraphale bent down and grabbed a book from the floor that was covered in ash gray dust he thought about doing something about that as well. During the time he had run the shop Aziraphale had barely ever cleaned it so after a while a thick layer of dust had settled down on every surface except for the few books he regularly touched.  
He had not cared that much about it and had even noticed how many of his customers were disgusted by all the dust. It helped a lot to prevent them from buying anything and so he had finally found a good reason not to clean.

But the angel knew how important cleanness was for Crowley.  


Back in his flat Aziraphale had never seen so much as a single grain of dust and nothing had ever stood in the way. Everything had always been so very neat and clean. So neat, indeed, that Aziraphale had felt like he was visiting Heaven when he had first seen the demon's flat, except that the colours did not match at all. Crowley's flat had been dark where Heaven was bright.  


But what both places had in common was that they had always felt too clean for the angel to be comfortable.

Azirphale sighed and snapped his fingers and with a miracle he got rid of all the dust that was covering every surface in the shop. Every book's cover looked new and clean again and the dark wood of the book shelves even seemed to shine again in the soft light, just the way it had been all those years ago when Aziraphale had first got them.  
The angel nodded. He was satisfied with his work and he hoped that maybe Crowley would appreciate it, too.

He continued putting all the books that were still lying around into their shelves. Every now and then, though, he stopped for a minute and opened one of them just to read a couple of pages, before finally putting them away again and reaching for the next one.

After a while Aziraphale could see the wooden floor of his shop again. Nothing was in the way anymore and no books were blocking the passages between shelfs. He could easily reach every one of them now which also meant that customers would be able to reach them, too.  
But Aziraphale felt that Crowley's happiness was worth the risk of someone trying to buy one of his favourite books.

He could always go back to using one of his older techniques, after all, and simply stare at customers to make them feel uncomfortable.  
That trick had been working for quite some time now so why shouldn't it work in the future?

And maybe Crowley would like to help him, too, when he was feeling better again. He always seemed to be fond of finding new ways to annoy people. That kind of was his job as a demon, after all.  
Aziraphale decided to ask him.

Maybe he would like to change a couple of things in the shop or in the flat above. Maybe, Aziraphale thought with some sort of desperate feeling in his chest, he would stay with him. Then he wouldn't have to look for another place to live and Aziraphale would not have to let him go.  
He could keep an eye on him here and Crowley could just make himself a home here. With him, with Aziraphale.

Aziraphale liked the thought.  
He would love sharing his things with Crowley.

He just wasn't sure whether Crowley would like that, too.

Aziraphale decided to ask him. But not now, later maybe. When he was a bit better again. Or maybe if the topic should present itself.  
But not now. It was too early for that.

The angel nodded and looked at his shop, cleaner and more passable now than he had ever seen it before.  
He smiled to himself but when he decided to also have a look at the old counter, he heard a noise that made him freeze.

It was Crowley.  
And he was screaming.

As fast as he could Aziraphale ran into the living-room where he had left the demon sleeping.  
He almost fell on his way to the sofa as he stumbled over his own feet and nearly tripped on the carpet.

Crowley seemed to be alright, though. At least he wasn't hurt or anything. But he was hugging the pillow Aziraphale had given him tightly with both of his arms and legs. The soft blanket had fallen to the floor.

"Crowley, my dear," the angel whispered.

He shuffled a bit closer when he heard the soft sob that came from the demon.  
Crowley's body was shaking.

"Crowley," Aziraphale tried again and he decided to reach for him.

Still hesitating a bit, he reached out and touched the demon's shoulder. When nothing happened he rolled him onto his back so he could take a better look at him.

"Oh dear," he said in surprise when he realised that Crowley was still sleeping. He pulled back his hand again and tried to think of something to help him. "My dear boy, you're having a nightmare," he whispered but he felt like an idiot as soon as the words left his mouth.

If Crowley was still sleeping he wouldn't be able to hear him and he knew that.

Still, the demon grunted softly as if he had heard what the angel had said. But his bony fingers started digging into the pillow tightly and they looked so pale and fragile that Aziraphale started worrying that they might break.

He tried to think of something to do. Anything to make Crowley's agony stop.  
He had read something about nightmares in several books. He had read that it was best not to wake the person that was having the nightmare. But he didn't know whether that rule also applied for sleeping demons.

He also remembered reading that people with nightmares were able to feel the presence of others and that it could calm them down if they felt being held or touched gently.

Aziraphale didn't know what to do.

What if he made things worse? What if he troubled Crowley even more by touching him?  
He remembered how Crowley had backed away from him when the angel had tried to hug him before. He also remembered his face and the pain in his eyes.

Aziraphale kneeled before the sofa, looking at the sleeping demon's face that resembled the same pain he had seen just a couple of hours ago.  
He considered his options and their consequences, thought about what he should do.

He decided he had to do something.  
And when Crowley started sobbing into the pillow, hot tears on his cheeks, Aziraphale did.

He put a hand on his shoulder. The touch was gentle and the angel prayed silently that Crowley could feel it meant no harm.

Then he just waited for the demon to show any kind of reaction.

"Crowley," he said softly when nothing happened at all and he leaned down a bit, thinking that maybe he would understand him better if he did. "It's just a dream, my dear," he continued. "You're safe here, I promise."

He sighed, letting go of his shoulder. He started stroking the demon's soft hair instead.

"I'm here, Crowley," he whispered. "And you're safe with me."

But Crowley did not seem to hear Aziraphale's words. He started sobbing harder and even screamed again. The pillow he had been hugging close to his chest fell to the ground.  
Then Aziraphale heard Crowley mumbling a few words and he felt his heart breaking.

"No," the demon had whispered. "Leave him. Kill me."

Aziraphale fought back tears.

"Crowley, please," the angel whispered and his voice broke. He started combing Crowley's hair with his fingers again and again and brushed them from his sweaty forehead. "Nobody is here to hurt you, Crowley," he said. "You are safe here. And I will protect you, I promise. I promise, Crowley."

He did not hear him.  
His face tensed and he looked like he was in so much pain.

Aziraphale shakingly pushed his soft hair back and decided that he didn't care what he had read in that book. He had to wake him up and he had to do it now.  
He couldn't stand the pain he saw in his face any longer.

"Time to wake up, Crowley," he whispered, while shaking his shoulder gently. "See, my dear, it's just a dream. You can wake up now, it's fine."

It took him a moment but then the demon finally woke. He just looked at Aziraphale, startled.  
The angel started smiling, relieved that it was over now, but before he could say or do anything he felt a pair of thin hands wrap around his throat. 

"Crow-" The angel choked. He didn't know what to do but it was over again before he could even think of anything. The long fingers that had been wrapped around his throat loosened their iron grip.  
Crowley let go of him and he amost looked like the touch of Aziraphale's skin had burned his.

The demon crawled back, shaking violently.

"A-Angel," he whispered, slowly realising what he had done. "I'm - I'm so sorry, angel, I didn't know - I - I just -"

Aziraphale could see the tears in his eyes and he desperately tried to hide his own.

"It was just a dream," he said, while reaching for Crowley and gently stroking one of his temples with the back of his hand.

But the demon drew back, looking so startled that one could think Aziraphale had hit him in the face.

"I am so sorry." Crowley sat up, wiping the tears away that were rolling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I -" He gave up and stopped his fight against the tears. Instead, he buried his face in his palms and started sobbing violently.

"Crowley, can I - Can I hug you, please?" Aziraphale asked and he reached out and gently touched one of his bony wrists with his fingertips.

Again, the demon drew back.

"I tried to strangle you, Aziraphale," he whispered and his voice was soaked with pain.  
"You tried to protect yourself," the angel corrected him, shaking his head gently. "I don't blame you, Crowley. And I forgive you."

The demon looked at him for a moment. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in silence.  
Then, with one sudden move, he slid from the old sofa and into Aziraphale's welcoming arms where he started sobbing.

"It's alright," the angel whispered into his ear. "You're safe now. I'll protect you."

He could feel Crowley's body shivering and shaking beneath his fingertips. He could hear the despair and the pain in his choked sobs.  
And there was nothing else he could do but hold him and give him time to recover and tell him again and again that he was safe now.

Aziraphale started combing Crowley's hair with his fingers again and he noticed how the feeling of the soft streaks of hair brushing through his fingers did not only calm the demon but also himself.  
Before he could stop himself Aziraphale lowered his head and dug his nose into the demon's red hair. He took a deep breath, smelling cinnamon and orange in his hair and something that he could only describe as Crowley.

"I am so sorry, angel," the demon said, his face now tucked away under Aziraphale's chin. The angel could feel his tears on his skin.  
"No," he whispered back, nestling his cheek against Crowley's warm temple. "You have to stop saying that, Crowley. It's not your fault. Nothing of this is."

Crowley remained silent, obviously disagreeing with him.  
But he allowed the angel to pull him a bit closer.

Aziraphale simply held the shaking demon, stroking his back every now and then before returning his fingers to his soft hair.

"You should go back to sleep, my dear," Aziraphale whispered when he noticed how Crowley's tired eyes fell shut again and again.  
"But I don't want to." His long fingers dug into the angel's vest and he shook his head.  
"You'll be fine, Crowley," the angel promised, again combing his hair with his fingers. "I could stay here with you if you want me to."  
"You would?" Crowley lifted his head slowly and he looked at the angel, his eyes tired and weary but full of hope.

Aziraphale nodded softly.

"Come," he said, pulling Crowley onto the seats of the old sofa again.  
But when he wanted to let go of him, the demon would not have any of it.

Instead, he pulled the angel closer, not letting Aziraphale go. It was nearly impossible to move now and so Aziraphale just sighed and sank into the sofa as well, hugging the demon back gently.

"Here," he said, giving him the pillow and the blanket that had both fallen to the ground earlier.

"Oh, alright, then," he mumbled in surprise when Crowley ignored the pillow and let his head fall into the angel's lap instead.  
Aziraphale pulled the blanket over his body and nodded once more.

"Now sleep, my dear," he whispered. He put an arm around the demon and stroked his shoulder every now and then. "I will be there when you wake up."

Then he watched Crowley as he tried to fight sleep for another moment before losing and finally closing his eyes.  
Aziraphale held him and patiently waited for him to fall asleep again. He smiled when he felt Crowley's body relax against his thighs and a soft snore left the demon's lips.

"Sleep tight," the angel whispered, letting his head fall against the headrest of the sofa, before closing his own eyes for a bit.


	4. Rise And Shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i accidently deleted the whole chapter before posting it so I had to write and translate everything again, hence the delay...  
> but I think I'm going to keep the pattern of posting twice a week. probably every wednesday and saturday.

Aziraphale woke from a rather bizarre dream when he felt a gentle movement in his lap. He yawned and blinked sleepily, looking down at the figure that was nuzzling its head against his thighs as if they were soft pillows.  
Crowley was hiding his face against the angel's legs. Aziraphale could feel the tip of his nose where it gently pressed into his skin through the fabric of his trousers.

When he noticed that the demon was moving and talking Aziraphale started worrying that he might be having another nightmare. But he soon realised that he was just talking in his sleep.  
His mumbled words sounded gentle and quiet. A bit too quiet for the angel to understand but it did not seem like was having any bad dreams.

Aziraphale felt another yawn coming up and leaned back into the sofa, shivering slightly. So he had actually fallen asleep, then. Something he had not done in many years.  
Crowley must have tired him much more than he liked to admit.

"Mhmm, 'ziraphale?" the demon in his lap mumbled, his voice muffled against Aziraphale's thighs.  
He looked down and watched Crowley wake from his sleep.

He ached to touch his hair like he had last night but he decided not to rush things. He didn't know how much Crowley would allow, even if he had spent most of the night with his head in the angel's lap.  
He knew he still had to be careful with him.

"Good morning, my dear," Aziraphale said, giving Crowley a gentle smile as he blinked up at him.  
"What - what time is it?" the demon asked. He hid a tired yawn by pressing his face into the angel's thigh and Aziraphale felt another shiver that ran down his spine.

Then Crowley moved a bit and started stretching his long limbs, completely ignoring the fact that he was still resting head and shoulders in Aziraphale's lap.  
The angel just chuckled gently and turned a bit to look at the old clock that was hanging from the wall behind the sofa.

"It's half past 6," he said, "which means you can go back to sleep if you like. There's enough time."  
"No." Crowley sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He shook his head. "No, I don't think I want to."

Aziraphale gave him a worried look.

"Did you have another nightmare?" he asked carefully. "Because I, er -" He had wanted to tell him that he had fallen asleep. But he decided to keep that to himself.  
He had promised to look after him, after all. What would the demon think of Aziraphale if he knew that he had fallen asleep, forgetting that he had promised to protect Crowley?

"I - I didn't notice anything," he ended his sentence after a short pause.  
"No, it's -" Crowley shook his head and brushed a few loose strands of hair from his face. "No, I think being with someone helped," he said before he sat up, nodding. He wouldn't meet the angel's eyes. "No nightmares," he added quietly. "Just - normal dreams."

Aziraphale nodded.  
He reached out to touch him. But he hesitated.

Then, finally, he let his fingertips brush against the demon's shoulder.

Crowley didn't flinch at the touch, he didn't back away.  
He just watched the angel very carefully.

"You're allowing me to touch you," Aziraphale said with a small smile. He let his hand rest on his shoulder.  
"I guess I am," Crowley mumbled before turning away, his cheeks turning slightly red when he did so.

He cleared his throat.

"What - What happened to your bow tie and your vest?" he asked after a moment of silence. "I was sure I saw you wearing them last night."  
"Oh, I took them off." Aziraphale decided to withdraw his hand from the demon's shoulder. He was glad that Crowley accepted the touch but he didn't want to overdo it. "Well, you were getting quite warm after a while," he explained when he noticed the funny look Crowley was giving him.

It had taken him quite some time to shrug off that old vest of his without waking the sleeping demon in his lap. 

"But you're - you're never taking that vest off, like, ever. You love it." Crowley shook his head and looked at the angel. "You look kind of normal now," he added and the small smile that had settled on his lips turned into a cheeky little grin. "You know, no tartan bowtie or funny coat or -" He chuckled. Aziraphale fell in love with the sound immediatly. "Oh, remember those shoes you wore in Paris in the 1790's?" Crowley continued. "The shiny ones, remember? I think they were the ugliest shoes I've ever seen."  
"Well, and I thought they were rather stylish," the angel tried to defend himself, feeling a tickling wave of heat rushing to his cheeks.

The demon just raised an eyebrow at him, a motion so familar on his sharp face that Aziraphale would always recognise it immediatly.

"Just like tartan is stylish?" he asked with a bit of a teasing sneer.

Aziraphale decided to ignore him.  
He sat up straight and checked his collar, before closing the first few buttons he had opened last night when it had become too warm with Crowley's body heat so close to him.

Then he got up from the sofa and put his hands to his hips.  
He tried to think of what do to next.

"Right. How do you feel about breakfast?" he asked Crowley who was watching him from the sofa. He couldn't wait to take Crowley out for breakfast again, just like old times. "We could go and visit a nice little restaurant I discovered a few weeks ago, dear. The food they serve is scrumptious, you see, and -"

He noticed the way Crowley was looking at him and fell silent.  
The joy he had felt just seconds ago ebbed away.

"You - You don't want to go out?" he asked. He fought back a disappointed sigh. "I thought we -" He didn't know what he had thought.  
"Please, just look at me, angel," Crowley said, looking at him. He brushed some strands of hair from his face again and gave him a sad look. "I just don't think that I look like someone who should be eating breakfast in a fancy restaurant right now, don't you think?"

Aziraphale had to admit that Crowley wasn't exactly wrong about that.

Even though the demon had started opening up a bit it didn't mean that he had overcome whatever the things that had happened to him had done to his mind. It didn't mean that he was fine again.  
And he still looked absolutely awful.

Actually, he looked like someone who had not eaten or slept for a long time and he looked like someone who was in need of a nice bath, even though he had done all of these things within the last couple of hours.  
Crowley still looked a bit ill with his pale, almost greyish skin and those dark circles under his eyes. And the bruises did not exactly help, either.

Aziraphale sighed.  
He tried to think of something he could do.

"Alright. I'll - I'll make breakfast", he said. He nodded and pointed at Crowley who was still watching him from the sofa. "Yes, and you, you could go and take another bath, yes? Oh, and then we'll see what we can do about your hair to stop it falling into your eyes," he added when he noticed the demon brushing another strand of hair from his face. "And then - then we could go shopping, what do you think? I think you need some other clothes than mine."

Crowley just blinked.

"Now, do you need any help with the bathing?" Aziraphale offered. "Or do you think you can do it on your own so I can go and prepare breakfast in the meantime?"

The demon just sat there and remained silent, looking slightly frightened.

"I mean, it's alright to ask for help," Aziraphale said. "Or to decline it if you do not want it. You know that, right?"

He took a step towards the demon but Crowley flinched at that, just a bit.

The angel nodded and took a step back again.  
He sighed.

"Alright. No, don't worry, my dear," he said with another small nod. "We've got so much time, we don't have to do everything at once. That was silly of me." He shook his head. "Well, I'll make breakfast now. Everything else can be dealt with later."

"Angel?"

Aziraphale, who had nearly reached the kitchen by then, turned around and looked at Crowley.

"Thank you." Crowley ducked his head. "For - For everything, I mean."  
"Of course, my dear," the angel said with a small nod.

He left Crowley in the living-room and stepped into the kitchen where he remembered to roll up his sleeves before he started making breakfast. Another tin of baked beans went into a pan and while they sizzled on the stove Aziraphale grabbed plates, mugs and cutlery.  
He made them a cup of tea and decided for some herbal tea he usually liked to drink in the morning before turning back to the beans.

Aziraphale just looked at the rather poor breakfast he had made them and crossed his arms across his chest.

He wasn't even sure whether Crowley liked herbal tea in the morning. Or baked beans.  
Maybe he was more of a coffee person? Or maybe someone who prefered a glass of orange juice?

Aziraphale didn't have any of those things at hand, though. And it kind of slipped his mind that he was an actual ethereal being that was able to use miracles.  
He tended to forget that sometimes.

After some hesitation Aziraphale decided to make Crowley a cup of hot chocolate as well. Of that he had more than enough at home.  
And maybe it would do Crowley some good to have something sweet in the morning. It certainly helped Aziraphale whenever he felt weary or sad.

"Careful, they're still hot," he said when he came back with four mugs in his hands, two of them filled with tea and the other two with hot chocolate.  
Then he went back to the kitchen and after another moment he returned with their plates full of baked beans.

He just looked at them for a second, trying his best to hide his disappointment. But Crowley did not really seem to care about the beams which helped cheering Aziraphale up.

"Well, we can buy something else than baked beans in London if you like," he said in an apologetic voice. "Oh, and we can also get some coffee or juice if you prefer them in the morning. But, well, right now there's only cocoa and tea and, er -"  
"Angel, it's fine," Crowley interrupted. He motioned for the angel to sit down. "You don't have to worry about me. It's like - It's like you're not even breathing anymore. Because all you do is worry about me." He sighed. "I don't want to tire you, Aziraphale," he added.

The angel looked at him.  
If Crowley only knew how hard it was not to worry about him when he was looking like that.

But he didn't mention that. Instead, he sat down and reached for his plate.  
They looked at each other, then they started eating in silence.

Every now and then Aziraphale tried to encourage Crowley to eat a bit more when he noticed that he was just pushing the beans from one side of his plate to the other.

Then when Crowley had finally finished his rather small portion of baked beans he silently leaned back and watched Aziraphale until he had finished his plate as well. Their eyes met for a moment.  
Crowley gave him a small smile. It still looked a bit weak and sad but at least it was an honest one.

"Why don't you just miracle it all clean?" Crowley asked after Aziraphale had taken their empty plates to bring them into the kitchen.  
Crowley was watching him washing the dishes.

"I don't know, I -" Aziraphale stared at the plate in his hands for a moment and then shrugged. "It saves too much time, to be honest," he admitted after another pause. "I mean, I used to love small miracles to save time but - But then you were gone and I - I just didn't know what to do with all that time that was left with-without you."

He tried a small chuckle to hide the anxiety and the sadness in his voice. Bit it didn't feel right.

"I felt so alone without you," he continued, unable to stop talking now that he had started. "I - I couldn't help it, Crowley, I just - I missed you so much."

He felt tears stinging in his eyes.  
He tried to hide them from Crowley as well.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale," Crowley said. "I mean it. I'm so sorry, I -"  
"No, we talked about this, remember?" Aziraphale said, turning around to face him. "This is not your fault. You don't have to apologise, alright?"

Crowley just nodded half-heartedly.  
Aziraphale nodded back and sighed. He started playing with the golden ring on his pinky as he didn't know what to do with his hands.

He was about to say something when Crowley reached out. He took the angel's hand and held it in his own, just like they had done last night.  
Aziraphale gave him a sad smile.

"I don't deserve you, angel," Crowley whispered but Aziraphale did not want to hear that.  
"No, Crowley. Don't be ridiculous," he said, shaking his head while he looked at him. "We both know that's not true."

Crowley remained silent.  
But he did squeeze the angel's hand slightly to show him that he undeestood what he had just said.

"I - I don't think I need your help. With - With the bathing, I mean," Crowley mumbled. His thumb had started stroking the back of the angel's hand and it was hard for Aziraphale to concentrate on what he was saying.  
"You - oh. Oh, alright," he said, nodding. He tried to hide the sudden disappointment from his voice as he said this. He knew it wasn't right but he couldn't really help it. "Alright, sure." He nodded. "I'll just, er, I'll go and get you some other clothes."

Crowley gave him a look.

"No, I meant -" He tilted his head a bit. "I don't need your help but I think - I think I would enjoy your company."

He let go of Aziraphale's hand and brushed a bit of hair from his face before shoving his hands into his pockets.  
He looked at him, almost sheepishly.

"Do you - Does that mean, that you, er - wait, do you want me to - to stay with you while you're taking a bath?" Aziraphale asked, feeling a sudden wave of heat in his cheeks.  
"If that's alright with you?" Crowley said, making it sound like a question.

Aziraphale blinked.

"Why, sure. I mean, er -" He nodded. His mouth felt dry. "Sure. Well then, I believe you know how to fill a bathing tub with water, don't you?" he managed to say. "Yes, alright. Just let me finish this, I'll be with you in a second."

Crowley nodded and there was the hint of a smile on his face when he turned around to leave the kitchen.

For a moment Aziraphale did not move at all.  
Then he buried his face in his palms, sighing deeply.

Six thousand years he had spend on earth and he had read even more books during that time. He had studied humans with them, had studied their behavior around each other and all their little quirks and flaws. He had spend enough time around them to understand a few things.  
And he was almost sure that Crowley had just flirted with him.

With him, Aziraphale.  
With an angel.

He shook his head.  
No, he wouldn't have. Would he?

Probably not.  
Why should he?

No, he had probably just misunderstood the demon's intention with all that was going on right now.  
He had missed him so much that he was probably just imagining things.

Yes, that must be it.

Aziraphale decided to follow Crowley upstairs but he stepped straight into his bedroom without even so much as glancing into the bathroom as he walked past it.  
He closed the door behind him, trying to create some space to think.

What if he just wanted Crowley to do flirt with him?  
What if he just wanted the demon to feel something like this so he would stay? So he would not leave Aziraphale?

The angel sighed and rubbed his palms over his face.

There was just one way to find out what the demon had actually meant.  
He would have to go and see for himself.


	5. Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some content warning for this chapter: panic attack and mention of injuries.  
> the panic attack's gonna last for about one third of the chapter. you can skip that part.
> 
> also, i'm very tired and translating this was kind of a pain in the ass so excuse my mistakes, please.

Aziraphale stepped towards his wardrobe and opened it, not knowing what kind of clothes to choose for Crowley. He picked a few of them but he still wasn't sure whether the demon would even like them.  
Crowley did need some new clothes.  
Some he actually chose for himself.

Maybe, the angel thought after a moment of going through his old clothes, it wasn't even that bad that all of his trousers were too short for the demon's long legs. He had seen a lot of young people wearing their trousers's legs like that and Crowley had always been that kind of adult that would just copy their latest trends. He knew exactly what he had to do to look cool.  
Following that logic, the pullover that was way too big for the demon's slim body should nor be a problem, either. It seemed that oversized pullovers were as popular as trousers that were too long and had to be rolled up at the ankles.

Aziraphale knew, though, that he was probably the last person who would know what was popular and what wasn't. Crowley had always been the one to know about these things.  
And he had always loved teasing the angel for not being interested.

Aziraphale decided to bring Crowley another pair of whoolen socks from one of his drawers. It seemed to have been a good idea last night, so maybe the demon would appreciate it just as much today.  
The angel wasn't quite sure, though, which pair to chose. He was holding two of them in his hands and inspected them when, suddenly, he hard a cry.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley cried. "I - I think I need help."

His voice sounded strange, choked.

Aziraphale dropped the clothes he had been holding to the ground and ran into the bathroom next door where he found Crowley on the floor.

He was kneeling next to the pullover the angel had lent him last night and his bony arms were wrapped around his own shoulders. Aziraphale could see his frantic breathing, could see his ribs rising and falling quickly with them.  
His whole body was shaking violently.

"Crowley," the angel whispered. "What - what's going on?"

He fell to the floor, right next to the demon, but Cowley shook his head, panic in his face. He crawled back as far as he could until his shoulder bumped into the bathing tub.  
He leaned against it for support.

"Please," he uttered, choking on tears. "Please don't touch me right now, I'm -" He fell quiet again, now gulping for air like a fish that had been taken out of the water.  
"I won't," the angel promised, sitting down slowly, his hands in the air so Crowley could see them while he did so. "I won't," he repeated gently.

He had read books about such situations. He had read what one should do or say to make things better. But he couldn't remember anything at all. It was all gone, blown from his mind. All that was left was the fear of making it worse.  
And the sound of Crowley's rapid breathing didn't make things easier.

Aziraphale looked at him.

"Breathe, Crowley," he said softly. He decided to go with his instincts for once. "You are having a panic attack," he continued, his voice steady and gentle. "Keep breathing, my dear, slowly."

Of course his words made no difference.  
Crowley's fingers dug deeper into his own shoulders, so deep that his nails left red scratches on his skin. But Crowey didn't even seem to notice them.  
He was still shaking and his breathing became faster and faster.

He let his head slump back against the edge of the bath tub. He stared at the cealing and tried to fight back tears that were already streaming down his face.  
He started sobbing, sounding desperate and hurt.

"Please look at me, Crowley," the angel said and he noticed how strange his voice sounded. It was full of worry and fear and there were tears in his eyes now as well.

He ignored them and looked at Crowley who had lifted his head a bit, waiting for Aziraphale to say more.  
The tears started rolling down the angel's cheeks.

"Breathe," he said again, wiping the tears away as if they were nothing more than an annoying fly that was buzzing around his head. "Let's do it together, yes? Come, try with me."

He looked at Crowley and took a deep breath, slowly and slightly shaking as well. He saw that the demon was trying to follow his lead, taking a breath as slow and as deep as he could manage right now. Aziraphale smiled at him and gave him a gentle nod.  
They repeated the process over and over again. And slowly, step after step, the tension seemed to vanish from the demon's muscles.

It made him collapse onto the cold floor, though, as there was no strength left in his body.

Ghoose bumps started crawling over his pale skin, and he was still shivering and shaking.  
It hurt Aziraphale to see him like that.

"You're getting cold, my dear boy," Aziraphale whispered softly.

He edged a bit closer but he stopped again when the demon lifted his head and glanced at him.  
Looking utterly exhausted, Crowley reached out his hand for the angel to take it. Aziraphale did so immediatly and cupped it with his own hands, shocked by how icy Crowley's skin felt under his fingertips.

"Dear god, you're freezing," he whispered, carefully stroking the back of the demon's hand. "Let's see, can you sit up?"

Crowley tried to sit up but he was too exhausted and so strained that he collapsed onto the floor again. His temples nearly hit the edge of the tub.  
Aziraphale gasped and reached out for him, catching the demon in his arms before he could get hurt.

"You're so cold," he whispered, feeling a sudden pain in his chest as he held Crowley in his arms like a mother would hold her child. "We have to change that, my dear."

He gently brushed some of his hair out of his face and tried to smile at him. Crowley just blinked up at him and the angel could see how exhausted he was.  
There were a few tracks of tears on his pale cheeks that had not dried yet.

"They kept me cold," the demon whispered, his voice so thin and quiet that Azirphale nearly did not hear him at all.  
"Is that what caused the panic?" he asked as he slowly began to understand. "You felt like you were back there again, didn't you?"

Crowley simply nodded, tears were running down his face.

"You're safe now," Aziraphale said, feeling a sudden urge that made him press his lips to the demon's temple. He nodded gently. "Let's get you into this tub, shall we?"

He put one arm around Crowley's skinny back and wrapped the other one around his legs. Then he gently lifted him from the tiled ground, not in the least bit suprised by the weight of the demon. He'd never looked very heavy and right now he did not seem to weigh anything at all.  
Crowley did not say anything, he just let Aziraphale do what he did. He even seemed to slightly lean into the angel's arms when he gently lowered him into the bathing tub.

Even though Crowley was still wearing the pyjama bottoms and whoolen socks, Aziraphale kneeled down next to the tub and snapped his fingers to turn on the water. He kept an eye on the temperature of the water and made sure it wasn't getting too hot for the demon since his body still felt extremely cold.  
He gently held the back of Crowley's head for support while he waited for the water to fill the tub, dipping the demon's hands into the water every now and then so that they would get warm again. 

Crowley clasped his hand so desperately with his own that his knuckles looked even paler than the rest of his skin.

"It's alright, dear," the angel whispered, dipping their hands into the water once more.  
"Your sleeves," Crowley said when he noticed that Aziraphale's were soaking wet as he had not rolled them up this time before helping him.  
"It's fine." He gave him a smile. "It's just a bit of water."

Aziraphale was about to let go of Crowley's hands to turn off the water but the demon held onto him, new panic in his eyes. And so Aziraphale just snapped again and the warm stream of water stopped.

"I'm here, Crowley," he said, looking at him with a sad smile on his lips. "I won't leave you, I promise. You can let go of me, I'll be right back."

It was as if Crowley had needed to hear those words from the angel's mouth. He let go of Aziraphale's hand so he could get up and get some soap.  
It was his favourite, lavender and sandalwood.

"Would you like to listen to some music?" he asked Crowley, stepping towards the small radio that was standing on one of his cupboards. He only owned it because there was no record player that would fit into his small bathroom. "I know you like that one band," he continued. "What is it called again, the one with that Fergie Mercury?"  
"It's Freddie, angel," Crowley groaned and the water around him made a gentle splashing sound as he moved. "His name's Freddie Mercury."

Aziraphale smiled but he didn't let the demon see that.  
Of course he knew what the man's name was. He had simply tried to tease Crowley a bit. To distract him.

"You don't have to play Queen, though," Crowley continued. "It's the Bentley, she just keeps - I'm sure you wouldn't like them, anyway. Please, just play something that you'd like to listen to."

Aziraphale shrugged and gently put a CD into the radio's slit. Then he pressed the play button and waited.  
A nice relaxing jazz tune started playing and even though jazz wasn't exactly Aziraphale's favourite type of music, it felt like a compromise of his and Crowley's taste in music.

He smiled and then kneeled down next to the tub again.  
Crowley reached out for his hand almost immediatly and the angel nodded and took it gently.

The temperature of Crowley's body slowly began to rise again which was a good sign but every now and then Aziraphale let in some new and warmer water.  
He also started washing the demon. He gently massaged his neck and used a sponge to wash his slim torso. At some point Crowley closed his eyes, slightly leaning into Aziraphales touches.

"Do you want me to so something about your hair, my dear?" Aziraphale asked and he gently brushed some strands of it out of his face.  
His fiery hair had become slightly curly with the moisture air in the room.

Crowley opened his eyes again, blinking.  
Then he looked at the angel for a moment.

"You don't like it?" he asked and the angel had to stop and think about it for a moment.  
"No, that's not what I said," he answered, shaking his head. "No, actually, I do like it. It reminds me of how you wore your hair back when - when we decided to look after young Warlock, remember?"  
"I wonder what that boy's up to these days," Crowley mumbled softly. He started playing with Aziraphale's golden ring.  
"Well, he certainly is not a boy anymore," the angel said. "He is a young man now, my dear."

Crowley looked at him.

"You still kept an eye on him, then?" he said. It sounded more like a question than a fact. "Even while - Even while I was gone."

His voice was trembling slightly.  
Aziraphale tried to calm him by gently touching his shoulder before he answered.

"Yes, I did." He nodded. "I mean, we both kept an eye on him after Tadfield. And it just didn't feel right to abandon that after you were gone. And to be honest, it kind of felt like you were there again. Sometimes I caught him saying something that you used to say and -" Aziraphale shook his head, he didn't want to have this conversation again. "He, er, he is having a normal life now," he added after a few seconds of silence. "Away from both of his parents. They're divorced."  
"Good," Crowley mumbled, before looking at the angel again. "Didn't like that father of his."  
"No, neither did I," Aziraphale agreed.

And then they fell silent again.  
It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. They simply did not have anything else to say at the moment and so they stayed quiet. It almost felt like they did not even need words to understand each other.

Again and again, Aziraphale's hands found their way up to the demon's neck. He combed his hair with his fingers a couple of times and after a while it became wet again and they decided to wash it once more.

Again, Crowley leaned into the angel's touch while he massaged the shampoo into his scalp. And Aziraphale felt the sudden urge to press his nose into the demon's hair. To be close to him, to breathe his scent.  
But he fought that urge and tried not think of it any further.

He just finished washing Crowley's hair and brushed it from his face, smiling at him gently.

"I think it's time to get out now, my dear," he said.  
His chin was resting on the edge of the tub and he had been watching Crowley for a couple of minutes. He smiled again.

The demon sighed dramaticly and he splashed a bit of water into Aziraphale's face.  
The angel was taken by surprise and gasped. He gave Crowley a look and then just shook his head at him. A tiny smile started tugging at Crowley's lips which made the angel smile as well.

Aziraphale got up and helped him out of the tub.

"Here," he said, wrapping him into his big soft towel that he had used last night. He gently rubbed through his hair with it, smiling at Crowley.  
The demon smiled as well.

Then he took the towel from Aziraphale ans started drying himself.

"Crowley, may I - may I have a look at those bruises?" the angel asked carefully when he just couldn't ignore them any longer.  
Everytime Crowley moved he could see another bruise beneath the towel. He had already seen them last night but Crowley had looked so tired then. He had not wanted to bother him.

Crowley's movements stopped and he ducked his head, not looking at Aziraphale.  
Then he simply nodded.

"I'm not going to touch them," the angel promised and he carefully lifted Crowley's head to get a better look at his chin.

He sighed.

"Do they still hurt?" he asked. Crowley nodded, his eyes glued to the bathroom's ceiling. "And would you like to get rid of them?" Aziraphale continued.

The demon nodded again.  
There were tears in his eyes.

"I'd like to miracle them away, then," Aziraphale said and he felt a sting of pain in his chest when he saw the tears rolling down his eyes. "It won't hurt, I promise, Crowley," he continued, "but I will have to use magic on you. Do you consent?"

Again, the demon nodded.  
Aziraphale did the same.

"Alright. Please look at the ceiling again," the angel said, lifting Crowley's chin once more. "Yes, that's much better, my dear."

Very carefully he touched the coloured bruises on his skin with his tumb.  
They vanished as soon as he did so.

"Does it still hurt when I touch you here?" he asked, running the tip of his thumb over the spot where the bruise had been just a few seconds ago.  
Crowley shook his head and the tears started rolling down his cheeks once more.

"What about the other ones?" Aziraphale looked at his hips, at his wrists, his ribs. "Do you want me to miracle them away as well?"  
"That - That would be nice," the demon whispered, his voice close to breaking.

He stood absolutely still and allowed Aziraphale to touch and to heal him. He let the angel undress him until his pyjama bottoms and socks were stripped as well.  
Then he patiently waited for him to find every last one of his injuries and to miracle them away.

"Thank you, angel," he whispered when Aziraphale had healed his very last bruise.  
The angel simply nodded, gently touching the back of Crowley's hand. "Of course," he said. "Now follow me."

Aziraphale lead him into his bedroom where, in his hurry, he had forgotten the clothes for Crowley. He grabbed them from the ground, eyeing them for a moment.

"Well, this will have to do until we get you some better clothes," he said, giving them to Crowley who hesitated for a moment before he took them from the angel.  
"You really have the most awful taste in clothes, do you know that, angel?" He smiled at him, just a bit. But it was enough to make the angel smile as well.  
"If you say so." He just shrugged. "But now do get dressed, dear, before you get cold again."

The demon raised an eyebrow.  
There seemed to be something in his mind that he probably would have liked to say. But he didn't. He smiply put the towel down and got dressed.

Aziraphale, who had bathed the demon twice and who had healed him just a few minutes ago, turned and looked away, feeling a sudden heat in his cheeks.

He looked down and noticed the wet spot on his chest where Crowley's had splashed some water at him. His sleeves were soaked as well and they had started dripping onto the wooden floor.  
Aziraphale decided to get himself a new shirt from his wardrobe.

"Oh, so yours are under your clothes," Crowley said as he watched the angel change. He turned to him and shot him a look.  
"Pardon me?" he asked.  
"Your - The marks. Or tattoos. Whatever you'd like to call them." With his finger Crowley pointed at the golden streaks on the angel's chest and then at his own. Aziraphale had got so used to the black little snake next to his ear that he hadn't really paid it any attention for a long time. "I mean, I wasn't sure whether you even had any," the demon continued talking, tilting his head a bit. "You know, with Uriel's and Michael's and Gabriel's being much more obvious." 

He motioned towards his own face to imitate the golden marks one could sometimes see on Uriel's or Michael's face. At the same time, though, Crowley tried to put on a fresh pair of socks and he kept swaying slightly, trying to keep his balance on one leg.  
Aziraphale looked at himself and at the streaks of gold on his chest, his shoulders and his tummy. He knew there were some on his back, too.

"Yes," he answered, finally. "I, er, I am glad they are rather subtle. This way I don't have to put much effort into hiding them from humans."

He hastily pulled the new shirt over his head, trying to hide his body from the demon.  
Aziraphale could not stand being watched like that. He didn't like the feeling of it.

He had never really cared much for his looks. He had chosen his apperiance a long time ago and he had done so carefully. He had wanted to look trustworthy and gentle in the eyes of the humans he was supposed to guard. And he had never bothered to change anything about himself.  
But he had noticed how people looked at him sometimes when he passed them in the streets. He wasn't an idiot. Even Gabriel had told him to lose the gut.

Lost in thought, Aziraphale sighed.

"You're alright, angel?" Crowley asked.

He circled him, like he used to do, and tried to look meet his eyes.

But the angel didn't want to be seen right now.  
So he ducked his head.

"Tell me, what is it?" the demon asked. He sounded hurt. "Did I - Did I do something wrong? Or - I don't know - Was it something I said?"

Aziraphale looked at him, shaking his head.

"No, Crowley. It's not your fault, it's just that I -" He sighed again. "Do you think that I am too - that I am too soft?" he asked, touching his belly with the flat of his hand. "My, er - My body, I mean."

For a moment Crowley looked confused. He blinked a couple of times and continued to look at Aziraphale's body as if he had just now realised that he actually possessed one.  
Ten he shook his head, still looking slightly confused.

"Did someone say that to you?" he asked, his brows drawn together tightly.  
"Oh. Oh, no. No, Crowley." The angel held up his hand in a soothing manner. "Nobody said anything abou-"  
"Who was it?" Crowley asked, not even listening to the angel. "Who said that?"  
"I told you, no one did, it's just that I -" Crowley shot him a look and Aziraphale fell silent. "Well, Gabriel did mention it once", he admitted quietly.

Crowley coughed.

"Gabriel?" he asked, crossing his arms. But the effect he had wanted to produce got lost because of the big soft pullover he wore. "You cannot seriously be paying any attention to that prick, angel."  
"Crowley, he's not a - Well, sometimes he can be a bit of a pain in the - He's not a prick," he repeated. "And please don't call him that again."  
"Yeah, believe me, I know what I'm talking about," the demon mumbled. "And now do it, angel," he said, a small evil grin on his lips. "Go ahead and call him a pain in the ass, just like you intended to. Finish your sentence."  
"I will not call him that, Crowley, I -"

Aziraphale gasped in surprise as the demon took a long step towards the angel and came to a halt shortly before his nose could bump into Crowley's.

"Come one, you'll feel much better," the demon said, sounding way too excited about this. Aziraphale, who couldn't help but notice how close Crowley was, felt a sudden heat in his cheeks. He ducked his head  
"He's a pain in the ass," he mumbled in a quiet voice, not at all surprised how easy it had been for the demon to talk him into this.  
"Huh?" Crowley scoffed. "Who is? I couldn't hear you, angel."  
"Gabriel," Aziraphale repeated. "Gabriel, he's a pain in the ass."

Feeling his cheeks burn even hotter, he looked at the demon. Crowley still wore that evil little grin on his lips.

Aziraphale sighed.  
Crowley was right. He did feel better after having said it out loud. And the demon could see that in his face, of course, effortlessly.

He smiled, satisfied with himself and the work he had done on the angel. And Aziraphale knew he probably enjoyed this. He knew he enjoyed it to see the angel like that, to have tempted him to say it.

"See? I told you you would feel better" the demon hissed gently but Aziraphale decided that he could confuse and embarrass Crowley just as much as he had confused and embarrassed him.  
And he could enjoy it as well.

"Yes," he said with a toothrottingly sweet smile on his face. His nose was nearly touching Crowley's nose now. "But now I'd like you to shut your precious mouth, my dear boy, and to get dressed, please." He liked how Crowley blinked a couple of times, looking at the angel's lips and then at his eyes again. "I'm going to take you shopping now," the angel smiled before turning around.

Crowley didn't answer.  
He did stare at the angel, though, as he left the room.


	6. Let's Go Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of a few a bit more cheery chapters before it all goes back to having nightmares and suffering from trauma (:

"Angel!"

Alarmed, Aziraphale lifted his head. He could see Crowley coming down the stairs at quite a speed.

"Angel, what have you done?"

He was running towards the angel, waving his long arms.

Feeling a bit relieved, Aziraphale sank back into the armchair he was sitting in. He closed the book he had been reading and put it on the table in font of him.

Crowley seemed to be fine.  
He had feared something had happened to him.

"Seriously, look. What have you done?" Crowley asked again and he was going so fast, his long legs almost got tangled up on his way.  
Aziraphale raised his hands. He cought Crowley at his hips before he could stumble into him.

He looked at him, confused.

"Would you elaborate, dear?" he asked.  
"My hair!" Crowley said, nearly shouting now. He was plucking at some strands of his hair as if that would make the whole matter clear to the angel. "Look, you've ruined me for good!"  
"I think I still do not understand," Aziraphale admitted.  
"My hair!" the demon repeated. "Come on, just look at it!"

Aziraphale didn't exactly know what to look at and so he shrugged, shaking his head to show Crowley that he still did not understand.

"Would you care to explain to me what you mean, Crowley, or do you want me to keep guessing for another ten minutes?" Aziraphale asked, noticing too late how irritated his words had sounded. But it worked. Crowley fell silent and blinked, before he opened his mouth again, now sounding much calmer than before.  
"I -" He cleared his throat. "My hair," he repeated, pointing at it. "You put it in a bun when it still was wet and now, it's -" He made a little circly gesture around his head. "Now it looks like this."

Aziraphale looked at him.

"I'm sorry, Crowley," he said, "but I still don't understand what you are talking about. I don't see a problem with your hair."  
"Curls, angel! I've got curls!"  
"Yes, so do I and -" The demon didn't let him finish.  
"But I haven't had curls in years!" He was shouting again. "That's why I cut my hair! Well, not just because of the curls but - Well, anyways. I don't want them, angel." He crossef his arms. "I don't want them."

Aziraphale tilted his head, looking at the demon for a few seconds.

"But why not?" he asked. "I mean, personally, I think they look rather ni-" The demon raised a brow and pointed his fingers at Aziraphale, daring him to finish his sentence. The angel interrupted himself. "I think they suit you," he said instead.  
"But they look cute. People think curls are cute. I'm a demon, I'm not cute!"  
"I've got curls, too, Crowley," Aziraphale pointed out but the demon just sighed dramatically.  
"Yeah, but you're an angel, you are allowed to be cute. It's, like, besically part of your job, to be honest."

Aziraphale felt a sudden heat in his cheeks but he tried to ignore it.

"I, er, I do like your curls, Crowley," he mumbled, shrugging slightly.  
"Really?" The demon crossed his arms. "You do?"

Aziraphale nodded.  
While he did so he absentmindedly touched his own hair and he could feel his small curls between his fingers. Crowley's curls were much bigger than his. Less defined. He liked the demon's curls better.

"Remember how you used to wear your hair? Back in the Garden?" Aziraphale asked and he couldn't help but smile gently as he thought of that memory. "Oh, or Golgotha," he added. "I quite liked those curls on you, my dear. And to be honest," he knew he was blushing again, "I've always liked your hair. It doesn't really matter what you do with it. I think it'll always work on you."

Crowley seemed to think about this.  
He did not look entirely convinved, though.

"You could just straighten them out if you're so concerned about looking, er, cute was the word you were using, right?" Aziraphale shrugged. "All it takes is a small miracle of yours."  
"But I - I can't," Crowley said, his voice sharp.

He stepped back and Aziraphale noticed how his hands turned into fists, how he thrust them into his pockets where the angel could not see them.  
His jaw tightened visibly.

"What - What do you mean you can't?" Aziraphale asked carefully. He sat up, resisting the urge to pull Crowley into his arms. "What happened, Crowley?"

The demon remained silent and Aziraphale understood.  
He sighed, nodding.

"Alright," he said, "I understand. You don't have to tell me. Of course not. I'm sorry, I won't press it any further."  
"No, angel, I am sorry." The demon closed his eyes and he lifted his hand, his fingers started rubbing his forehead as if he was having a terrible headache. "You've been taking care of me since I came here. I think you deserve the truth, I really do, but - I just don't think I can talk about it. Not yet. I don't -"

He took in a shaky breath.

"Can - Can I hug you?" he asked the angel who silently got up from his armchair and nodded, reaching out for the demon.

Crowley sank into his arms, burying his face right under his chin.

"They tortured me, you know," he whispered, breathing against Aziraphale's neck. His fingers dug into the angel's shoulderblades. "I-it hurt. They tried to play with my head."

Aziraphale could feel him trembling slightly. And he pulled him closer, touching the back of his head gently.

"I can't use miracles anymore," Crowley said and his voice sounded like he was close to tears again. "I tried, believe me. I tried again and again and again. But I can't."  
"You will," Aziraphale said, even though he had no idea where this his certainty came from. "We will work on that, Crowley. I promise."

Crowley sniffled and nodded, burying his face even deeper into the angel's neck.  
Aziraphale felt a shiver when the demon's nose brushed his throat.

"Come, let's get you some new clothes, what do you think, my dear?" he asked after he had been holding Crowley for a couple of minutes.  
He let go of him, touching his shoulder gently before he stepped back.

He had an idea.

"Oh, but first, sit down. Just for a moment, please," he said, smiling gently. He pushed the confused demon into the seat of his armchair. "Er, where did you put that hair tie I gave you?"  
Crowley reaches out his arm where he wore the tie around his wrist.  
"Perfect," Aziraphale said, taking it from him.

He stepped arouns the armchair until he stood behind the demon's back.

"Can I do your hair?" he asked.

Crowley seemed a bit surprised at that but he nodded. Aziraphale gave him a nod as well.  
Then he started combing his hair with his fingers. Holding the tie between his teeth, he made a small bun with the demon's hair.

"Remember when you wore it like that?" he asked, looking down on the demon who was sitting still for him. "I think we met on the bus that day." He nodded. "Yes, we both had to hand in our reports on the Antichrist. Well, it wasn't the real Antichrist but we didn't know that back then, did we?"

Crowley looked at him, a small smile on his lips as he watched him.

"You know, I must admit," Aziraphale continued, "I quite liked that little bun of yours." He shrugged, just to have something to do with his body.

Crowley raised his hand and touched the little bun on the back of his head. Then he shrugged, as if he didn't really care about it that much.  
But when he looked at the angel angel, Aziraphale could see a warmth in his eyes that made him smile. Of course Crowley would not lose his cool to admit that he liked the bun.

"Yeah, cool, angel," he said casually. He got up and simply nodded.

Aziraphale smiled.

Then they got ready for their small shopping trip.  
Aziraphale gave Crowley a coat from his wardrobe to keep him warm while they were outside. They were living in London, after all, and one could never be sure when it would start raining again.  
Crowley just took the coat without saying anything and he did not even complain about the boots Aziraphale gave him after that.

"Er, angel?" His hand reached for the angel's wrist just a second before he could open the door for them. He held him back gently.  
"Yes, what is it, dear?"  
"My eyes," Crowley mumbled in a quiet voice, ducking his head slightly. "Do you have some sunglasses I could cover them with?"

Aziraphale blinked at him.  
He nodded in surprise.

"Oh. Oh, of course, yes. I almost forgot." He smiled. "Just give me a moment, dear, I'll be right back."

He went into his bedroom upstairs and rummaged through his drawers until he found what he had been looking for.

"Here," he said when he came back to the demon who had been waiting for him with his arms crossed across his chest.  
He handed him the dark, round glasses in his hand.

Crowley opened his mouth, taking them carefully.

"These are - But how exactly did you -" He held them into the light and then put them on. He looked much more comfortable now that he had them.  
"I went to your flat," Aziraphale explained. "When I started looking for you, you know. I found them on your nightstand and I just -" He looked at the floor. "Well, I thought I might need them one day. So I took them with me."

Crowley looked like he was close to smiling.

"Not a single spot," he said as he looked through the room. "Thanks, angel."

Aziraphale just nodded and then motioned for him to follow him outside.

"Oh no, please, do we have to go by bus?" the demon asked, sighing dramatically when he understood that Aziraphale was taking him to the nearby bus stop. "Seriously, can't we just -"

He didn't finish his sentence as he noticed the look Aziraphale was giving him.

"I've got a surprise for you," said the angel. He was satisfied to see Crowley's face lit up for a split second. "But first we'll get you some clothes. And we will go by bus."

Crowley followed him, mumbling a few words to himself.

Together they got into the bus.  
They went to quite a luxurious shop in the middle of London that Aziraphale most likely wouldn't have visited if he had been on his own.

All the mannequins in the windows were wesring black clothes, all of them so tight that the angel doubted that they were even at all comfortable. But he saw Crowley's face that had lit up the second he had noticed the shop in the street and so he was quite satisfied with himself for having brought him here.

Together they entered the shop.

"Excuse me, er," Aziraphale glanced at the tag on the employee's chest, "Mr Basak."  
"How can I help you, sir?" The man smiled at Aziraphale politely but it was obvious that he was rather surprised to see someone like him in his shop.  
"My dear friend here, he - he is new in town," the angel improvised. "Er, yes, came without his suitcase and now he needs some new clothes. I'm afraid mine are not quite his style."

Crowley, who had been standing right behind Aziraphale the entire time, nodded at Mr Basak, his hands buried deep in the pocket's of Aziraphale's oversized coat.

"Oh, I see", said Mr Basak. "Please, follow me."

He lead them into the shop that was much bigger than it had looked from the outside.  
Aziraphale had never in his life seen so many black clothes.

While they were following young Mr Basak Crowley slightly leaned over and whispered into Aziraphale's ear. The angel shivered slightly as the demon's lips touched his skin.

"This shop is brilliant," Crowley whispered and Aziraphale nodded, giving him a smile.

"Er, you don't need my help, do you, my dear?" he asked Crowley after had been following him and Mr Basak for a couple of minutes, feeling utterly useless.  
"Oh." Crowley blinked. "Yeah, actually, I think we're fine, angel. Why don't you just - You could wait over there." He pointed at a corner with some chairs and a black sofa. "Look, they've even got some magazines to read."

Aziraphale nodded and gave the demon another smile.  
He should give him some space now.

"Alright, I'll be waiting for you," he said and now it was Crowley who nodded.  
"We will be back very soon, sir," Mr Badak said in his polite manner, before leading Crowley away to show him some more clothes.

Aziraphale sat down on one of the chairs and even took one of the magazines that Crowley had pointed at. But he noticed that they were about clothes and jewelry only. So he put the magazine he had opened away again since he did not care much about such things.  
Instead, he leaned back and waited, lost in thought.

He suddenly became aware of how much he had missed Crowley whenever he saw his fiery red hair appear behind some mirror or coat rack. Because every time he saw him he caught himself thinking that he would rather be with him now instead of waiting here.  
But the angel tried to ignore that thought. He was probably just thinking these things because he was tired. The thought was rather stupid, after all, as he had spent nearly a whole day with the demon. And he would be back very soon and then he would have him to himself again.

Which was also a stupid thought.  
Crowley belonged to nobody except to himself.

Still, there seemed to be a slight tinge of envy stuck in his chest whenever Aziraphale thought of Mr Basak who could spend time with Crowley while the angel had to wait here without him.

Aziraphale sighed and rubbed his face.

For centuries he had not felt as tired as he did at the moment. He did not like to admit that to himself but Crowley's sudden return had tired him.

He decided to close his eyes for a moment.

"Your boyfriend has a funny taste in clothes," said Mr Basak's voice.

Aziraphale opened his eyes again, looking left and right to see whether he or the demon were anywhere near. He couldn't spot them, though.

"He's n- er, yeah," Crowley answered and the angel couldn't help but listen a bit closer. "But he's been like that ever since I met him."  
"Oh, so you have been with each other for some time, then," Mr Basak said. Aziraphale could hear a soft sigh, coming from the demon.  
"Yeah," he mumbled, "quite some time, indeed."

"He could try some of our clothes as well," Mr Basak suggested after a small pause.

Aziraphale looked at his own clothes, before looking at the ones that were displayed in the shop. No. Nothing would make him get into any of those, nothing at all.  
Not even Crowley.

"No." He heard a chuckle from the demon. "I don't think he would like that very much," he said and the angel couldn't help but nod at that, even though he knew no one was even paying him any attention. "Well, and neither would I, to be honest," the demon continued.

Aziraphale tilted his head and tried to hear what the demon would say next.

"I mean, I guess I like what he wears," Crowley explained after a moment. "Yeah, it's not exactly what I would like to wear, you see," he said, "but it's what - well, it's kind of who he is."  
"You seem very fond of him, sir," said Mr Basak.

But then he lead the demon away and so Aziraphale who was straining his ears by now did not hear Crowley's answer to that.

He leaned back and was a bit surprised as he had not noticed that he had leaned foward, in the first place.

This was strange.

He had been way too smitten by whatever Crowley had been doing to him since he had appeared on his front step last night. And it didn't feel right.  
Crowley had been weakened, he had been abused. It would be wrong to take advantage of that.  
Because that's what it felt like.

When he touched Crowley or when he even looked at him, he felt like he was taking advantage of him and of his current state of mind.  
And he felt selfish for even thinking about how much he had missed Crowley. It had made him forget what the demon must have been through. It wasn't fair.


	7. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i know i said i'd update this every wednesday and saturday. i'm sorry for being late. again.)

"And? What do you think, angel?" Crowley asked, slowly stepping towards the angel who had almost nodded off while he had been waiting for the demon and Mr Basak to return.

He raised his head and looked at him.  
He felt his mouth open in surprise.

Crowley wore a tight black sweater that revealed much more of his neck than any pullover ever should. Looking more closely, Aziraphale noticed that he could also see through the through the fabric of the sweater.  
He blinked and felt relieved when he saw that the demon wore a grey top beneath.

"I, er - I like it, I -" The angel just made a vague gesture with his hand, then ducked his head.

This way he noticed that Crowley also wore some tight jeans which wasn't exactly an adventurous choice for him. He loved tight trousers. He had chosen a belt for it that looked a lot like a silvery snake. It was wound around his thin hips and matched his new boots perfectly as they looked like they were made of snake skin. On one of his fingers Aziraphale noticed a silver ring and he was entirely sure that he would see it was also a snake if he gave it a closer look.  
The demon had never been very subtile.

He raised his head again and gave him a smile.

"We chose this nice coat for colder days," Mr Basak said, helping Crowley into a sleek black coat that fell into his calves.

At first it didn't quite seem to match Crowley's look, Aziraphale thought. But as soon as the demon actually wore the piece it looked nothing but perfect on him.  
He almost envied the demon for the gift of making every piece of clothing work on him.

"Oh, and a scarf and a pair of gloves," Mr Basak added with a smile.

He gave Crowley the silky black scarf they had chosen and the demon wrapped it around his neck before also reaching for the new leathery gloves.  
Then he looked at Aziraphale. He seemed to be waiting for some sort of reaction.

"And? What do you think, sir?" Mr Basak asked as neither of them said anything.  
"Er, I think - He looks, er - wow," the angel said, not sure what to say. He had to admit that he liked what he saw.

And it was rather obvious that Mr Basak did, too.

"I also chose some other things," Crowley whispered later when they were following Mr Basak to the counter to pay for the clothes. He pointed at the big white bag in the employee's hand. "They've got some great stuff in here. You know, I even chose some heels and a few dresses and skirts. He, er, he told me he liked me in them."

Again he pointed at Mr Basak, looking a bit embarrassed now.

"Well, and I liked them as well," he tried to defend himself, even though Aziraphale had not said a word. They both knew that he couldn't care less what the demon wore or what gender he liked to present as.  
"I'm glad you found something, my dear," the angel whispered back.

He paid for Crowley's new clothes with his creditcard that had never even been connected to any real bank account. It had always been giving some extra money, though, which is why a lot of restaurants were very fond of the angel.

Then they said their good-byes. And before they left, Crowley even promised Mr Basak to come back again soon. He told him again and again that he loved the shop.

Aziraphale didn't know how to feel about that.  
Sure, he was very satisfied that he had apparently chosen the right place and that Crowley had found some clothes that he would enjoy much more than the old ones the angel had given him. But he had to admit that he didn't like how Mr Basak looked at Crowley.  
Not that he had any reason or right to care.

"Let's go back to your shop, angel," Crowley said as soon as they had left the store, not even noticing that the angel had been lost in thought. "I think I'm kind of getting hungry. Oh, maybe I could cook for you this time." 

The shopping had certainly lifted his mood.  
Aziraphale smiled at him and then gently shook his head.

"You forgot about the surprise, didn't you?" he said and his smile grew even wider as he watched the demon's face light up for a second.  
"Oh, the suprise, right." Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "Er, but what kind of surprise are we talking about here exactly?" he asked.  
"I won't tell you, Crowley, that's why it is a surprise. I guess you'll just have to come with me and be patient for a bit longer." 

Aziraphale chuckled when Crowley groaned. Then he grabbed him by the arm, dragging him along gently.

"Oh, and after that we could find us a nice place to eat, what do you think, my dear?" he asked.  
"I'm just thinking about the surprise, to be honest," the demon mumbled.

They took another bus that brought them back to Soho but to a different part of it, a few miles from Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Er, where we're going, angel?" Crowley asked and he looked rather confused when Airaphale came to a halt at a park of old garages.  
He thrust his hand into his pocket, looking for a key.

"Alright, close your eyes," he said when he found, ignoring Crowley's question.  
They were standing in front of a garage now.

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale over the rim of his glasses. His face made very clear that he certainly would not do that.  
Aziraphale sighed.

"Oh, you're such a spoilsport," he said, shaking his head slightly.  
Then he opened the door.

With a small miracle he turned on the light and then stepped aside so Crowley could see why he had brought him here.

"What are you - Wait, is that the -" Crowley took a few steps towards the black car, almost staggering a bit. "It's - It's really her?" he asked and he gave Aziraphale an overwhelmed look. The angel nodded gently.  
"It's your Bentley," he said, coming a bit closer now as well.

Crowley started laughing.  
It sounded so true and happy it almost made the angel cry. He hadn't heard that noise very often. And he had not heard it in a very long time.

All of a sudden Crowley flung his long arms around the angel's neck. Aziraphale almost fell as he lost his balance due to the force of the demon that was hugging him tightly.  
He touched Crowley's back and patted it gently.

"It's really her. It's the Bentley, it's -" Crowley let go of the angel and he pulled his glasses from his face before he went to examine the car.

Lovingly he touched the black metal of the hood and he even caressed the rear view mirror on the right side of the car.

"How did you even get her?" he asked and he raised his head to look at Aziraphale. He seemed to be beaming with happiness.  
"Well, I bought her," the angel said.

He noticed the confused look Crowley gave him.  
He didn't want to start talking about this again.

"Well, some people," he said, sighing softly, "started noticing that you were gone. Some just assumed that you had moved but others started believing that you were deceased or -" Aziraphale kneaded his hands so he had something to do with them. "Well, I didn't know much more than they did, of course, so when they came to ask me about you - They must have noticed that we came to visit each other every now and then, and they must have assumed I would know what's going on. But I couldn't give them any answers and -"

He raised his head and looked at Crowley.  
The demon was leaning against his car, his hands resting on its roof. He was listening to the angel with a serious look on his face.  
He gave him a nod, asking him to continue.

"Since you have no relatives," said Aziraphale, "some company decided to auction your belongings. When I heard about it I came running and bought some of your things. I, er, I knew what the Bentley meant to you so it was the first thing I bought. And I got your signed Da Vinci sketch. And that strange statue of yours as well. Oh, and then I bought your favourite pen for some reason, I don't know why, though, I just - Anyway. I had to use quite some miracles to get the Bentley. People really wanted to have that car, you see."

He pointed at the car's back where he had put Crowley's other belongings.

"It's all in there. Oh, and, er, I've got the keys somewhere, let me just -" He rummaged through his pockets until he found what he'd been looking for. "Here, I guess these belong to you, dear," he said as he tossed them over to Crowley who cought them, still looking a bit confused and overwhelmed.

The demon just held the keys for a moment and looked at them. Then he raised his head to look at the angel, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you, angel," he said before he looked at the keys again that he was holding in his hands.

"I - I couldn't buy your plants, though," Aziraphale mumbled, watching Crowley unlock the car and climb in. "There wasn't enough space in the shop for them and they wouldn't have gotten any sunlight in here and - my dear, I think they killed your poor plants."  
"Angel, listen," Crowley rolled down the window and looked at Aziraphale, still smiling, "that's alright, okay? I'll find some new plants to frighten."

He flashed the angel an evil grin and then put his hands around the steering wheel. His movements and touches were gentle, it almost looked like he feared breaking the car by using too much force on it.

"Just the way I left you," Crowley mumbled to himself. "Amazing, even all the glasses are still in here," he added, a bit louder so the angel could hear it, too.

Through the window Aziraphale watched him grab a hand full of glasses. He put them into his coat pockets before he turned on his seat to have a look at the things in the back.  
There were the pen, the statue and the old Da Vinci sketch that had his name on it.

Crowley reached out and gently touched the statue of the two angels. Then he grabbed his pen and started spinning it in his hands before he put it back again.  
He touched the car's dashboard one last time and then climbed out again.

"Could I, er, leave this here for a bit longer?" he asked after a sigh. He closed the door of the car and put his hands on its roof again. His skin looked even paler, compared to the black surface.  
"Yes, of course." Aziraphale nodded. "This old garage here, well, it's not really my garage, you see. I just used a few miracles to let the owner forget he even -" The angel cleared his throat. "Of course," he repeated.

"Thank you, Aziraphale." Crowley stepped a bit closer. Again he put his arms around the angel and hugged him close, but in a much more gentle manner than before. "I'll find a place, I promise. I won't bother you too long. And I'll take all my stuff with me and -"  
"Hush," the angel hissed softly. He closed his eyes and leaned into Crowley's hug, letting his forehead rest on his chest. "You can stay for as long as you'd like." He sighed into the demon's new sweater and pulled him closer. "I missed you, Crowley," he admitted. "I enjoy every second of your company, I don't want to let you go. Not - Not yet."

Crowley remained silent.

"But I don't want to bother you," he said hesitantly.  
"You're not bothering me at all." Aziraphale let go of him again and looked up at him. "Really, I think I'd like you to stay, Crowley. I missed you, I - I need you."

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds.  
And neither of them took a step back, even though they stood so close that their bellies and feet were almost touching.

"I've had an idea," the angel mumbled, starring at the floor. "You know, last night when I cleaned the shop I thought -"  
"Oh, really, that's what you call cleaning?" Crowley interrupted jokingly. Aziraphale looked at him.

The demon was grinning slightly. Aziraphale understood that he had only said that to make him look at him while he was talking.  
The angel cleared his throat.

"I, er, I had the sudden idea to redecorate the shop," he said. "We could make it much more comfortable and -" He shrugged. "You could help me and decide what you would like the shop to look like."

Crowley remained silent and Aziraphale decided to continue talking.

"We could share the flat," he blurted out, rather directly. "You could have the bedroom and make it yours. And - Well, I could keep the little office in the shop. We could share the rest."

He looked at the floor again. Crowley did not say a word.  
He started wondering, no he started fearing that he had said too much now. That he had overdone it this time and crossed some invisible line.

He already wanted to start mumbling some weak apologies when he felt two fingers on his chin that lifted his head gently.

Crowley looked at him but Aziraphale couldn't read his face. He just stared up at him in silent horror.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. Aziraphale gulped. Finally, he nodded.  
"I - I guess I am," he mumbled. "I - I mean, I -"

He couldn't concentrate.  
All of a sudden he noticed how close they were now. That he could feel Crowley's warm breath on his cheeks.

"I - I mean," he continued, "unless you don't want to because I, er, I - I don't want to press you into things. I just thought, it would -"

Crowley even went so far as to put his finger on the angel's lips and Aziraphale fell silent immediatly.

He felt his heart fastening under Crowley's touch and a warm shiver ran down his spine.

"No," Crowley said, nodding. "No, I think I would like that. Moving in with you, I mean."

He smiled his cool smile and then let go of Aziraphale who felt his knees weaken a bit.

He tried to read Crowley's face but the demon had put on his glasses again so it became impossible fot the angel to do so.

"Let's go find a restaurant," the demon said, putting the keys he had been holding into his pocket before he patted his belly. "I'm geniunely starving now."  
Aziraphale nodded, trying to get his thoughts under control again. "A nice little restaurant. Yes, er." He blinked and shook his head. "Any wishes?" he asked Crowley who shook his head in return.  
"Surprise me, angel," he smiled.

Surprises. Aziraphale wasn't quite sure how many suprises were too many. But he certainly wouldn't complain.

"Right, let's go, then. I think I've got an idea," he said, motioning Crowley to follow him.  
"And then we'll go home?" Crowley asked casually while the angel turned off the lights and they both left the garage.  
"Yes," Aziraphale mumbled, feeling a nice warmth in his chest, "home."


	8. Patroclus

Aziraphale and Crowley decided to go to a small restaurant. The angel was recognised by a smiling waitress even before he could lead Crowley inside.  
The young woman who always wore her dark long hair in ornate styles began to smile at Aziraphale as soon as she recognised him.

"Hello, Lydia," the angel greeted her. He was very happy to see her as she was one of his favourtite waitresses.  
"Welcome, Mr Fell," she smiled, shaking his hand with excitement. Then, a moment later, she also noticed Crowley who had been standing behind Aziraphale. "Oh, so you brought someone with you today," she said and she looked even more excited now. "Why don't you introduce me to your date, Mr Fell?"  
"Oh no, he is not my - er, we're not -"  
"Crowley," the demon introduced himself, reaching out his hand to shake hers. He gave Aziraphale a look while he did so but the angel couldn't read his face because of his dark glasses. "I'm Anthony Crowley."  
"Very nice to meat you, Mr Crowley," Lydia smiled.

She opened a book on the counter and looked at it before she raised her head again, still smiling.

"Alright, you can choose between that table over there," she pointed at the only free table in the crowded hall, "or a bit more private one upstairs." She looked at the loud family next to the free table and nodded when she saw Crowley's face. The young couple's child seemed to be close to throwing a tantrum. "Yes, right, I think you might enjoy a bit of silence together. Let's head upstairs, then, shall we?"

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other and nodded. Lydia nodded as well and smiled.  
They followed the young woman upstairs into a much smaller room right under the roof.

There was no one upstairs, except for the three of them.

"We usually only open this part of our restaurant in the evening," explained Lydia, shrugging slightly. "But I'm certain that we can make an exception for one of our nicest guests around here."

The table Lydia lead them to was next to the big window. Aziraphale looked outside and he could see all the busy people on streets with their food and their mobile phones and their shopping bags.  
He smiled and shrugged off his coat and Lydia took it as well as Crowley's coat. When she came back she held a candle in one hand and a lightner in the other.

"Oh no, I don't think we'll need any candle light, dear, we're just -" Aziraphale felt a gentle nudge at his right elbow and looked at Crowley who was standing next to him.  
"Relax, angel," he mumbled before he gave Lydia a big smile, thanking her politely.

Aziraphale gave the demon a suspicious look. He did not trust him when he acted like that.  
He liked to act nice so Aziraphale would step into one of his traps and embarrass himself.

"I am relaxed," Aziraphale hissed as soon as Lydia had gone away to get them the menu. The flame of the candle that was standing on the table between them now shivered slightly as he spoke.  
"No, you're not." Crowley leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. Aziraphale almost got distracted by how much of Crowley's neck he could see with this new sweater. "I mean, it's not the first time we're mistaken for a couple, is it?" the demon continued with a shrug. "Why does it even bother you so much? And don't say it's because I'd make a terrible partner." He grinned at him. "I'm still very worn out, you see, and that might really hurt my feelings. I might even begin to cry."

Aziraphale gave him a serious look but the demon kept grinning, looking awfully smug.

"I'm sure you would make a very decent partner," Aziraphale said.  
"Very decent?" Crowley asked. "Ouch."

He chuckled softly which brought a smile to Aziraphale's face, even though he tried to hide it.

"You shouldn't care so much, angel," Crowley said after a moment of silence. "I mean, just do what I do. Just let people believe whatever they want to believe. They'll do it anyway. It'll save you a lot of time and energy, you see, and it'll make things much easier."

Lydia came back before Aziraphale could open his mouth to answer Crowley.  
He decided to stay quiet as long as she was around.

"Our menu," the waitress said with a polite smile on her face, hsnding them the fancy cards. "Would you like to drink the usual, Mr Fell?"

Aziraphale raised his head, puzzled.

"The usu- oh. Yes, that would be nice, dear," he said when he understood.  
"And Mr Crowley?" she asked, nodding. "Any idea what you would like to drink?"  
"I, er - I -" Crowley sat up more straight and looked at Aziraphale, then at Lydia again. "Er, the same as him, please," he said.

"Alright," Lydia nodded, "I'll be right back."

She went away once more and Aziraphale used her absence to talk to Crowley again.

"Tell me, did Mr Basak mistake us for a couple?" he asked, trying to let his voice sound as casual as he could. He thumbed through the menu while he did so, so he wouldn't have to meet Crowley's eye.  
"Mr Basak?" Crowley, who had not even so much as glanced at the menu yet, gave Aziraphale a puzzled look, his brows drawn together. "I don't know." He shrugged, shaking his head. "Maybe. Probably. I didn't really care. Why?"  
Aziraphale shrugged as well, still looking at the menu. "Just curious," he said before turning another page.

He felt Crowley's eyes on him for another moment before the demon shrugged again and started looking through the menu as well.  
He did not seem to concentrate much on the dishes, however, because whenever Aziraphale glanced at him he caught him staring at him.

"A Sartori Amarone for you, Mr Fell," said Lydia as she came back with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She put one glass on the table and filled it for Aziraphale. "And for you as well, Mr Crowley," she continued, pouring Crowley a glass of wine.

She put the bottle of wine between them on the table, close to the burning candle.

"Now, what may I bring you to eat?" she asked.

Aziraphale gave her back the menu, smiling.

"I'll try the Risotto Pescatore today," he said with a polite smile, before looking at Crowley. He saw him glancing at the menu, before grimacing slightly.

The angel had chosen the dish with fish and other seafood on purpose. It was something the demon did not like and certainly wouldn't like to try.  
He wanted Crowley to chose something he actually enjoyed. Not something the angel had chosen, like the wine.

"And Mr Crowley, sir?" Lydia asked gently when Crowley still had not said a thing.  
"I, er, I think -" He seemed a bit lost and Aziraphale almost regretted having pulled that little trick on the demon. "I'll have the lasagne, I guess," he mumbled, before pushing the menu towards the waitress.

"You did that on purpose, angel, didn't you?" he hissed as soon as Lydia was gone again. He leaned foward in a threatening manner but Aziraphale couldn't help but smile at him.  
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, my dear boy," he said with a sweet, innocent smile on his face.

It seemed to annoy the demon. He even started pouting.  
The angel sighed and tilted his head gently, looking at Crowley.

"I want you to choose for yourself, Crowley," he said. "Something that you actually enjoy, I mean, and not something you just copied from me."

He nodded at him and then reached for his glass of wine. Crowley did as well, hesitating a bit.

"To you," suggested Aziraphale but Crowley pulled his glass away and shook his head.  
"No. No, not to me. Absolutely not." He gave him one of his looks. "Let's toast to - to anything, really. But not to me. I don't know, to the Bentley or to Lydia or -"  
"To us," the angel said, before gently bumping his glass against Crowley's.

The demon still didn't seem very happy with the angel's choice but he didn't say anything.  
Instead, he took a sip of the wine.

"Er, it tastes like -" He didn't seem to be able to grasp exactly what it tasted like. He shook his head, instead, and took another sip, smiling. "It tastes good."  
"I know," said the angel.

He drank from his wine as well until Lydia came back to bring them their dishes.

They thanked her and then ate in silence. The only noise in the room came from their chewing and from their cutlery. Every now and then they could hear the sound of the wind pushing against the window from the outside.  
It looked like it was about to rain.

"Are you not enjoying your meal?" asked the angel after he had finished his dish. He had been watching Crowley for a while as he had absentmindedly stabbed his food with the fork.  
"Huh?" The demon raised his head. "Oh. Er - no. It's - Well, it's delicious. It's just that I -" He sighed and put his fork down. "I guess I'm full," he admitted, shrugging slightly, as if to apologise.

He pushed his plate towards the angel.  
Aziraphale looked down at the half-eaten lasagne.

"You can have the rest," Crowley said. He leaned closer and the tip of his nose was almost touching the light of the candle. "I know you're tempted to try the lasagne," he continued, grinning.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow but he did not protest. Instead, he reached for Crowley's fork and ate the remaining lasagne.

"I just don't want it to get thrown away," he tried to defend himself but he knew that the excuse sounded rather weak.  
Crowley, who had put his chin into his palm, just nodded.

"I assume no desert, then?" Aziraphale asked when he pushed the empty plate back to Crowley.  
"You can't possibly still be hungry." The demon gave him a look, eyebrows raised.  
"No, I'm not," the angel mumbled sheepishly, hoping that it wouldn't exactly count as a lie as he still felt in the mood for something sweet. But it wasn't a necessity. "I'm just asking to make sure you don't want any."

He reached for the wine and poured Crowley and himself another glass. Then he put the empty bottle back on the table and leaned back, smiling at the demon.

They paid the bill afterwards and then said their good-byes to Lydia, before heading home together.

"Great, it's raining," Crowley grumbled when they stepped outside. He wiped a few rain drops from his forehead and looked at the sky as if he was trying to challenge God to make the rain stop.  
"Let's go home," Aziraphale said, tugging at his sleeve gently.

Despite the rain, that became even heavier after a few minutes, the streets were flooded with people who didn't seem to care about the weather.  
It was London, after all.

Every now and then Aziraphale bumped into some person and apologised for it. Crowley had to stop walking, then, so he would not lose the angel between all those people. He didn't really seem to bump into any of them, as if their subconscience told them to make way for him.  
At some point he allowed Aziraphale to link arms with him so he would stop bumoing into people and so he wouln't get lost.

They went together in silence until Crowley came to a sudden halt.  
Aziraphale, who had been looking at the ground to shield his eyes from the rain, gently bumped into the demon.

"Oh, careful," he said in surprise. Then he followed Crowley's gaze and found why they had stopped walking.  
"That painting, it's fantastic," Crowley said, pointing at a big painting in a store window.

Aziraphale blinked against the rain but he couldn't see much more than a few blurred colours behind the glass.  
He nodded and pulled the demon towards the shop's entrance.

"Let's go have a closer look at it, dear," he said, hoping that maybe the rain would stop if they spent enough time in the shop.

"Look, it's beautiful, angel." Crowley pointed at the painting they had seen through the window.

It was a painting of a young man. He was sitting on a red cloth on a rock with his back turned towards the angel and the demon.  
His dark hair seemed to be caught in a gentle gust of wind.

"Patroclus," said a hoarse voice behind them and Aziraphale and Crowley turned, both a bit surprised to be addressed by someone.

There was an old man with a slightly bent back who leaned on a wooden walking stick. He was smiling at them.

"You've got good taste, boy, it's a beautiful painting. It surely is a shame it's just a copy," he added, still smiling.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale who nodded gently.

"I believe you're the owner, then. Please, can you tell me who this man is?" the demon asked, pointing at the painting.  
"Patroclus," the man repeated softly and then Aziraphale remembered where he had heard that name.  
"Yes, lover of Achilles," he mumbled to himself and he saw Crowley who gave him a strange look. "Well, it's in Homer's Iliad," he explained.  
"Your husband knows the story of Achilles?" the old man asked.

Aziraphale wanted to say something. He wanted to make clear that they were not a couple. And that they were definitely not married.  
But he decided to let it be and sighed gently, before nodding.

"I - I read the Iliad once, yes," he answered. He tried to remember what else he had read about Achilles and Patroclus. "Achilles, he was a beautiful mortal, born to a sea nymph."  
"Thetis." The man nodded.  
"I don't remember much more, though," the angel admitted. "I know that Achilles was one of the great Heroes of the Trojan War. In which he also gave his life. He killed Hector of Troye, I believe."  
"After Hector had killed his lover Patroclus, yes," the old man said, nodding again. "People often know about the hero Achilles but many forget about his friend, his lover and his soulmate. Patroclus."

Crowley, who had been listening to both of them, cleared his throat hesitantly.  
He pointed at the painting again.

"Er, how much do you want for it?" he asked. When he noticed the look that Aziraphale gave him, he started smiling. "Oh, don't give me that look, angel. You said we're gonna redecorate the shop."

"It's just a copy, I'm afraid. It's not worth much," the man said before answering Crowley's question. Then he named the very modest price he wanted for the painting.  
He tried to take it from the window, leaning on his walking stick for support.

Crowley nearly thrust the bags with all his new clothes into Aziraphale's arms and helped the old man with the heavy painting.  
The man smiled at him gratefully.

"What a very nice boy your husband is," he said, looking at the angel.  
"Oh, yes, he is," said Aziraphale who could not help but flash a smile at Crowley.

The demon pretented that he hadn't heard what he had said but Aziraphale could see the way he pursed his lips and chuckled softly.

He watched Crowley carry the painting to the shop's counter. It looked at least as old as the one in Aziraphales shop but not nearly as dusty.

"Wait, take this." Aziraphale held him back, sticking his finger through one of his belt loops. He showed him his credit card and put it into the ridiculously small pocket of the demon's trousers.

Then he nodded and let him go. Then the angel decided to have a look at the other paintings, statues, frabrics, antique furniture and books in the shop.

He found a painting of Achilles. There was a centaur next to him, teaching him archery and Aziraphale was sure he had read something about the centaur, too, but he couldn't remember.

When he reached the book shelve he found a pretty version of the Iliad and one of the Odyssey. He grabbed both of them and decided to buy the books without even giving it a second thought.  
He would like re-read both of them. And then he could give them to Crowley, maybe he would enjoy the books as well.

He brought the two copies to the counter where he found Crowley and the old man.  
The demon was kneeling on the floor and wrapping the painting with several plastic bags so it wouldn't get harmed in the rain. He was listening to the man while he did so who leaned on his stick and watched, talking to him.

"You know, Achilles was one of the most beautiful boys Greece had ever seen," Aziraphale heard him explain to Crowley, "with his golden hair that seemed to shine like the sun and his skin as soft as ripe olives."  
"And Patroclus?" asked Crowley, looking hungry for more. "And how did he and Achilles meet? How did they es up becoming lovers?"  
"Well, they were quite different, the two of them," said the man, shrugging gently. "Patroclus, he wasn't very much of a fighter, compared to Achilles. But the young prince chose him as his companion anyway. The twonof them grew up together after the young prince Patroclus had been exiled to the lands of Achilles's father, king Peleus. They knew each other for what must have felt like a small eternity to them."  
"An eternity," repeated Crowley in a quiet voice, before checking the painting once more.

He nodded and got up from the floor.

Aziraphale decided to join them and he put the two books he had chosen on the counter.

"I decided to buy these as well. You might want to have a look at them when we're back home," he told Crowley, gently nudging him with his shoulder.  
The man who had watched them for a few seconds smiled.

They paid for the painting and for the books, ignoring the old man's request not to pay him any more than the modest price he had asked of them.  
He looked quite a bit embarrassed when Aziraphale would hear none of his objections and so the man thanked them again and again.

They thanked him as well and then said their good-byes, before leaving the shop.  
Outside the rain had eased a bit and Aziraphale gave Crowley a small nod, smiling at him while he did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the painting i chose for them is called Patrocles by Jacques-Louis David


	9. Together

"Crowley, dear!" Aziraphale shouted. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the small flat above his shop. But there was no answer. "Crowley, dinner's ready!" the angel tried again, a bit louder this time. 

A few seconds later he could hear the noise of footsteps and some rumbling upstairs. A bit worried, Aziraphale climbed the first two steps but he stopped again when he heard footsteps coming nearer.

"Ah, don't worry," the demon shouted back, "I'm fine!"

He appeared on top of the stairs, stumbling and covered in dust but not harmed. He grinned and raised his hands in a calming motion before he brushed some hair from his face.  
There was some dust on his cheeks as well as on his clothes and hair. He looked ridiculous.

"What on earth have you been doing up there, my dear boy?" Aziraphale asked when the demon came down the stairs.

He reached out and plucked a bit of dust from the demon's head. But he gave up trying when he noticed that it was quite a hopeless venture.

"Cleaning," Crowley said, brushing a bit of hair from his face again. The bun that Aziraphale had helped him with earlier this morning was completely messed up by now and loose strands were falling into the demon's eyes. "Real cleaning," he added with a cheeky wink.  
"I didn't know cleaning included so much noise," Aziraphale said.  
"Well, you would know", Crowley said teasingly, "if you actually cleaned things, angel."

Aziraphale blushed but he tried to hide it from Crowley who did not even seem to notice. He just shrugged casually.  
But Aziraphale noticed something. Just for a split second there had been a strange look in his eyes. Like he wasn't as happy as he looked. But before Aziraphale could say anything about it it was gone again.

The angel sighed.

"Are you alright?" he asked him gently. Crowley just nodded and hid whatever emotion had appeared on his face with a careless smile.  
"Yeah, sure." He looked at Aziraphale, shrugging casually. "Why shouldn't I be?"

Aziraphale understood. He decided not to pressure the demon about it.  
It wouldn't do them any good.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe I'm just worrying a bit too much sometimes," he added before he snapped his fingers. With a small miracle the dust that had been covering the demon and his clothes was gone. "Now go and wash your hands, please, and then come to dinner."

Crowley just raised his brows and looked at him for a moment but then he did as he had been told. He nodded and went to the bathroom to wash his hands.

"You know, you could've used another miracle for my hands," he complained when he came back, sitting down on the old sofa, watching Aziraphale while he laid the table. "Anyway, what's for dinner?" He started shaking his hands that were still a bit wet as if he was trying to air-dry them.  
"Crowley, there are towels," Aziraphale scolded him gently. He shook his head and sighed, hiding a smile from the demon. "I made us some pumpkin pie." 

Crowley leaned forward and sniffed at the pie when Aziraphale put it down on the table.  
He looked quite satisfied.

"Nice," he commented with a smile, motioning for the angel to come and sit down with him so they could start eating.

They ate in silence.

"What?" Crowley asked when he noticed that Aziraphale was watching him. His fork was hanging from his mouth, parting his lips slightly.  
"Er - Nothing," Aziraphale lied. He lowered his head and looked at the floor so he wouldn't have to meet Crowley's eyes.

He sighed.

"It's just a bit weird to have you back, that's all," he said, still not looking at Crowley. "I mean, you're - you're just sitting there and eating and - oh dear, I'm so sorry, Crowley, I didn't want to bring this up again," he apologised.  
He shook his head and gave Crowley an apologetic look before he turned to his piece of pie again.

"What did you do?" Crowley asked after a moment of silence. Aziraphale looked at him. "I mean, we keep talking about me and how I feel. But we haven't really talked about you this entire time, have we? So," he shrugged, "what did you do while I was - well, while I was away?" He put on a weak smile. "And don't say steal my glasses and buy my Bentley."

Crowley nodded and he seemed to feel quite smug about his little joke.  
Aziraphale just sighed, he didn't know what to do.

Of course he had noticed that mask Crowley had put on as soon as they had left the house this morning.  
Yes, there had been a few moments when the demon had not hidden behind his jokes and cheeky grins. When he had allowed Aziraphale to read his emotions, when he had opened up. Like when he had showed him the Bentley or later in the shop when they had bought the painting.  
He had seemed genuinely happy then.

But Aziraphale knew the demon well. He had known him for six hundred years now.  
He had watched him hide behind jokes and smiles often enough to know when sonething wasn't right.

Aziraphale just had distracted him a bit, at best. He was sure Crowley had enjoyed seeing the Bentley and eating with the angel. But he also knew well that Crowley would not heal from whatever happened to him just because they went shopping together.  
He knew they both of them would need their time.

"I kept looking for you," Aziraphale finally answered Crowley's question. He put down his fork, then folded his hands in his lap and looked at them. "I went after every single clue to find you. I tried almost everything," he added, glancing at the old rug that covered the chalk circle on the shop's floor.

Then he looked up again and he noticed the demon staring at him with a sad look on his face.  
Crowley had long abondoned the piece of pumpkin pie on his plate just to listen to the angel.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale," he said quietly.  
Aziraphale realised how, for a short moment, he actually tried to open up, to allow the angel to read his face.

Crowley shook his head.

"I kept thinking of you, did I tell you that?" he asked and he looked at his hands, sighing gently. Then he raised his head again and looked at Aziraphale. "Honestly, I think it's what kept me believing down there. I think that's why they failed to break me entirely."

Aziraphale reached out his hand.  
He didn't really think, he just did it. He took Crowley's pale hand that was lying between them on the table. Very carefully, he squeezed it.

He didn't really know what to say, didn't know how to react to what Crowley had just told him.  
But the demon seemed to understand.  
He just nodded, a sad smile on his lips.

"Er, do you want to eat this, maybe?" he asked after another moment.  
He lifted his hand that Aziraphale had been squeezing and used it to point at his plate.

Aziraphale understood that the moment was over. Crowley was done opening up for now.  
The angel just sighed and reached for his plate of pumpkin pie, also taking his fork from his hand.

"You know," he mumbled, his mouth full of pie, "you won't ever gain any weight if you keep doing that, my dear boy. You really shouldn't get used to this."  
"Well, maybe I'm just happy to watch you eat," Crowley sad with a smirk on his lips as he leaned back into the cushions.

Aziraphale just raised an eyebrow at him and decided not to answer him. Instead, he continued eating.

Then they decided to do the dishes together this time.

"Do you need any help with the bedroom?" Aziraphale asked, handing Crowley the plate he had just cleaned.  
"With the painting, maybe." The demon just shrugged. "It's a bit heavy."  
"Yes, of course, my dear," Aziraphale agreed.

They fell silent again.

"And what do you think of the man we met today? The one who sold us your painting?" Aziraphale tried to start some casual conversation. "We could visit the shop again, if you like. Maybe buy another painting. Or a nice book."  
"Yeah, maybe," Crowley mumnled before tending to the next plate in silence.

Aziraphale understood.  
Crowley was tired and he probably wanted to be for himself now.

"You know what?" He gently took the plate from Crowley's hands and put it away. "The painting can wait. You look knackered, dear, and I bet you really want to go to sleep."

Crowley nodded and put the kitchen towel away.  
Aziraphale smiled at him.

They went upstairs together and Aziraphale gasped when he saw how far Crowley had come with cleaning and redecorating the bedroom.  
He had gone through the angel's wardrobe and had found some space for his own clothes. Black shirts, trousers, skirts, jackets and dresses were hanging from several hangers, all of them neatly sorted. It looked a bit funny, the angel's light blue, brown and beige clothes next to the demon's dark and black ones.

Crowley had also taken all the books from that the angel had forgotten to put away from the bed. And he had even put on new sheets so he wouldn't have to sleep with the old and dusty ones.

"The painting's still missing, obviously," Crowley mumbled as he followed Aziraphale's gaze through the small room. "And I think I'd like some plants. Ah, and I didn't touch your nightstand or drawers. I think I'd like to use them, too, for both of our stuff but what's in there is none of my business." He shrugged. "I decided to let you go through them first."  
"Thank you, Crowley, I really appreciate that," Aziraphale said with a nod.

"Wait, you're not gonna stay?" Crowley asked when Aziraphale bent over to lift some of the books from the floor.  
"I, er - I thought you were going to bed now?"  
"Yes." Crowley nodded, he looked a bit confused.  
"Oh. Oh, you want me stay?" Aziraphale asked. The books in his arms seemed to be a lot heavier now than they had felt a few seconds ago.  
"Yeah, I - Only if you don't have any more pressing things to do, of course." Crowley scratched the back of his head sheepishly and looked at his feet. "I just thought - I thought being with someone might help with the dreams."

Aziraphale hesitated.  
Then he felt himself nodding.

"Yes, of course. Just let me get these books downstairs, yes?" he said. "I'll be back in a moment."

He carried the books downstairs and even sorted them into the shelves to prevent them from cluttering his newly cleaned shop again. Then he went looking for the two books he had bought with Crowley earlier.  
After a moment he finally found it lying on his counter.

Crowley was sitting on the bed when Aziraphale returned. He had changed into some new pyjamas while the angel had been gone and was now waiting for him, hugging his legs close to his chest.  
He seemed to be a bit lost in thought, his chin resting on his knees as he was staring at the cheets he was sitting on without actually taking any further notice of them.

Aziraphale smiled when he noticed the whoolen socks on the demon's feet. They were the ones he had given him last night.

"You look so much better in your own clothes than in mine," the angel smiled and Crowley jumped a bit.  
He had noticed him just now.

The demon was wearing silky black pyjamas. There was a small pocket sown to his chest and Crowley used it to let his hair tie slip into it.  
He gave Aziraphale a tired smile and then crawled under the sheets, using a second, thinner blanket to keep himself warm.

"Are you going to read this the whole night?" he asked with a curious look on his face.  
He gave the two books in his hands a nod.

Then he watched Aziraphale as he climbed into the bed as well. The angel tried not to think about how close he was to Crowley now or how awkward it felt climbing into bed with him.  
He decided to stay on top of the sheets, leaning his back against the headboard. The Iliad and The Odyssey that he had brought with him were both sitting in his lap.

"That'd be the plan, yes," Aziraphale answered his question.  
"You're boring," Crowley grinned. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, then he sank into the pillows on his side of the bed. "Very well, have fun. Good night, angel."  
"Sleep tight, my dear," Aziraphale said.

For a couple of seconds Aziraphale could hear and feel Crowley moving around as he trief different sleeping positions to find one that he considered comfortable enough. He kept kicking the sheets, before pulling them back again and he even turned his pillows a few times.  
Then his movements stopped as he lay on his side, the spare blanket wrapped around his left leg a few times. He seemed to be hugging his legs close to his body which made it look like a small rock beneath the sheets.

Some time went by before Crowley finally closed his eyes.  
He fell asleep shortly after.

Every now and then Aziraphale looked up from the book in his lap and gazed at the demon next to him.

He started paying less and less attention to the book as he felt utterly fascinated by Crowley's sleeping figure.  
His face was buried deep into one of the soft pillows and his fiery hair spread all over it. It made him look like ge was an old oil painting, his hair like a soft dark halo around his head.

Aziraphale soon noticed that Crowley was someone who talked in his sleep. Someone who talked quite a lot.  
The words he said were too quiet for the angel to understand but Aziraphale closed the book in his lap and put it away just to listen to him. He already loved the demon's sleepy voice, he felt completely drawn in by it.

After a while Crowley moved a bit closer until the tip of his nose started touching Aziraphale's thigh.

The angel just watched as Crowley reached for him, putting his arm around his legs and pulling him close to himself just like he had done with one of the pillows a few minutes ago.  
Aziraphale felt a strange feeling in his chest.

"Angel," he heard the demon mumble into his thigh before his words became too quiet again.  
"I know, Crowley, I'm here," Aziraphale whispered, reaching out and daring to comb Crowley's hair with his fingers. "I promise I will never, ever leave you," he added gently.

Then he sat still and watched Crowley. He did not dare to move as he was too scared to wake the demon who nuzzled his face even closer to the angel's leg.

Around 2 o'clock in the morning, though, Crowley started rousing.

He started moving more and his fingertips started digging into Aziraphale's thighs. His mumbled words sounded more hectic now.  
He was having another nightmare.

"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, gently combing his hair with his fingers. "It's just a bad dream, my dear."

But the demon did not hear his words.  
He clung to him and started sobbing into his trousers. His breath, already fast, started shaking and sweat ran down his forehead.

Aziraphale just stroked his shoulder and whispered a few gentle words into his ear until he finally woke up, looking quite a bit desoriented.

"What - What time is it?" he asked, his face still buried into Aziraphale's thigh. He yawned, his body still shaking.  
"It's 2:11." The angel kept stroking his shoulder, even touched his sweaty face to brush some hair from his cheeks. "Breathe, Crowley, my dear," he whispered. "Just keep breathing."

Crowley nodded but Aziraphale could feel the panic that he was trying to fight.

"I'm sorry, angel," Crowley whispered. His voice was still shaking and he sounded utterly exhausted. He seemed to be close to tears again. "Even when I'm sleeping, I'm a bloody mess."

"Crowley, no." Aziraphale gently pushed him away a bit, looking at him. "Look, I don't know what happened," he said. "But I know that whatever they did to you is still messing with your head. It haunts you." He took his hand and held it, stroking his pale skin with his fingertips. "But I'm here, Crowley. And you are safe with me, alright? You're not alone anymore and you're certainly not a mess. It's alright to be scared."

The demon tried to blink away some tears but they started rolling down his cheeks, no matter how hard he tried.  
He hurried to wipe them away. To hide them from Aziraphale.

"And you do not have to hide anymore," the angel ssid softly.  
He bent over and wiped some or Crowley's tears away. The demon sniffled.

"Would you like to read something?" Aziraphale reached for the book he had put away some hours ago now. "Reading helps with dreams," he said, "at least that's what I read." He chuckled when he noticed how stupid his words must sound to Crowley. "Well, I mean, I bought the book for you, after all," he continued but Crowley just lowered his head at that, not meeting Aziraphale's eyes.

He looked ashamed.

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale asked. "Was it - Was it something I said?"  
"Do you promise not to laugh?"

Crowley looked at him with so much shame in his eyes that Aziraphale wouldn't ever have dared to laugh at him.  
The angel nodded.

"Reading's kind of hard for me," he admitted after another pause, looking at Aziraphale's belly instead of his eyes. "That's why I don't read much. It's not that I - I mean, I can read. It's just - I can never concentrate for long. It's hard for me to stay focused. And the letters, they always start blurring after a while and they're so tiny and -"

He sighed, sounding both ashamed and irritated.

"It's your eyes, isn't it?" Aziraphale asked gently, one hand on his shoulder.

Crowley just nodded.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Crowley," Aziraphale said. He gently nudged his shoulder to make him look at him again. "Do you, by chance, recognise the name F. Scott Fitzgerald?" he asked.

Crowley shrugged, then shook his head.

"He was one of the best known authors of the 20th century," Aziraphale explained. "He is believed to have been dyslexic. I don't know if that's true but it is a shame I never had the chance to meet him. I would have loved to."

He looked at Crowley who returned his look, still looking rather unconvinced.

"It's not your fault, Crowley," Aziraphale tried. "And it is nothing to be ashamed of, either. And it can get better, by the way. If you practise a bit every now and then, it can get better."

The angel sighed and looked at the book in his hands while he tried to think of something.

"Would you like me to read it to you?" he asked after a moment.

Crowley looked a bit puzzled.  
He just nodded.

"I - I never really thought of that," he said, looking at Aziraphale who gave him a gentle smile.  
"Come," he said, "let's read together. It'll help."

He reached out and gave Crowley the choice whether he wanted to come closer or not.  
The demon moved a lot closer.  
He even rested his head against Aziraphale's chest.

"Ready?" the angel asked him, blood pounding in his ears. The demon nodded, not meating his eyes. "Alright."

Then he started reading. And he read Crowley the story of the Trojan War until they both felt tired and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this sounded a lot better before i translated it from my original version...


	10. Talk To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild cw for description of violence and for mention of injuries (crowley's gonna Talk), so please be cautious!

Aziraphale woke when he felt something very soft tickling his nose.  
Yawning and stretching, he brushed all the fiery red hair that had woken him from his face. He blinked, slightly confused. Then he finally looked down and saw Crowley who was lying in his arms, resting his head on his chest.

Taken by surprise, Aziraphale tried to remember what exactly had happened and how he had even ended up in this position. He remembered reading Crowley the Iliad.  
The book in question was lying next to them on the mattress, pages wrinkled slightly. It must have slipped from the sleeping angel's fingers at some point.

Crowley, who must have fallen alseep while the angel had read him the book, had wrapped one of his long skinny legs around Aziraphale's thigh.  
The angel felt a sudden heat in his cheeks.

He gulped heavily.  
Then Aziraphale tried to find out whether Crowley was awake yet or not. Whether he could get away before things could get any more awkward between them.

Crowley's face was nuzzled into the space between Aziraphale's chin and neck where he could not see it.  
But he could hear the demon's breathing that gave him away.

He was awake as well.  
He must have been for a while.

Aziraphale sighed and then shifted slightly under the demon's weight.

"Good morning, my dear," he said, letting one of his hands rest on the demon's warm back. He could feel his hair tickling his cheek now, instead of his nose.  
"Morning, angel." Crowley did not move away at all. Instead, he even seemed to move a bit closer. Aziraphale could feel his warm breath that tickled his skin and he could not help but shiver slightly at that.

He tried to remember whether they had ever been so close to each other.  
He also tried to remember when he had started feeling that warm spot in his stomach whenever Crowley was anywhere near him.

"When did you wake up?" Aziraphale asked after some time of silence.

He did not dare to look at Crowley so he just gazed at the sun that fell from the bedroom's window. He could feel it on his left foot, could feel the gentle warmth of it.

"Dunno," Crowley mumbled, taking in a breath that made Aziraphale shiver again. "Maybe like half an hour ago, I think. Didn't want to wake you, though."  
"So you kept quiet and just waited for me to wake up as well?", Aziraphale aked, a bit puzzled. Crowley just shrugged.  
"Guess I did," he mumbled.

Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle at that. He used his second hand to comb Crowley's hair.

"No, I don't wanna get up yet, angel," Crowley tried to protest as soon as Aziraphale tried to sit up.

The demon wrapped his arms and legs around the angel's body and Aziraphale could do nothing but give in.  
He sighed and lay down again.

"But the shop," he tried to argue but both of them knew very well that Crowley had already won.  
The angel didn't even like opening his shop.

"You don't wanna sell your books anyway," Crowley mumbled, shrugging casually as if he had just read Aziraphale's mind. The tip of his nose brushed against the angel's neck. "Why bother to open the shop if you don't intent to sell anything?"

Aziraphale sighed. Crowley was right.  
Of course he was right, he wasn't an idiot.

"What's your plan, then?" he asked the demon, resting his arm on his back again. He didn't know what else to do with his hand. He decided to let it rest on Crowley's back.  
"Huh?" Crowley lifted his head a bit, just enough for the angel to see the pair of eyes that was looking at him, a quizzled look in them.  
"Well, you don't want to get up," Aziraphale said. "What do you want to do instead?"

The demon just shrugged and then burried his face into Aziraphale's neck again.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess I'll just -" His words blurred into some incomprehensible mumbling as he nuzzled closer to the angel.  
"Sorry," Aziraphale asked, "what was that, my dear?"  
"I said," Crowley repeated, "I guess I'll just stay here and enjoy this a little longer."

Aziraphale felt a sudden heat rushing to his cheeks.  
He didn't say a word, though, afraid that Crowley might notice how his words had made him feel if he started talking now.

They had never done such a thing before.

Of course they had been close to each other before.  
They had hugged and touched each other, had given each other strenghth. Aziraphale had helped Crowley with taking a bath, twice.  
But this was something different, something new.

Right now they were close to each other because they wanted to be. They had chosen to be close and had decided it felt good without having to think about it.  
It wasn't just about them giving each other some sort of strenghth anymore. They enjoyed it, they enjoyed being close to each other.

They were cuddling, Aziraphale realised with another wave of heat rushing through his cheeks.

And a bit, he thought, they were acting like humans around each other. Humans that really liked each other a lot.  
He had read about these sort of things a thousand times and more.

"You didn't have another nightmare, did you?" the angel asked after a while.

He noticed that he had been stroking Crowley's arm absentmindedly.  
The demon did not really seem to mind but Aziraphale grew still and let his hand rest on his shoulder instead.

"No," Crowley said. "No nightmares. But I did dream about some weird stuff, though."  
"What do you mean weird stuff?"  
"I don't know," Crowley shrugged, "I think there was Odysseus and he was, like, fighting a giant monster duck who had just one eye and -" Aziraphale's soft laughter interrupted him. "What?" he asked. "Stop it, why are you laughing at me?" 

He lifted his head, glaring at the angel.

"It's nothing, my dear, I just like your dream," Aziraphale chuckled gently.

He did get one of Crowley's looks for that, though, and he heard him growling as he let his head sink back onto Aziraphale's shoulder.

"You didn't ask about my nightmares," he mumbled after a while.  
"Your - What do you mean?" Aziraphale asked.  
"You wanted to know about my dream when I told you I dreamed about weird stuff. But you haven't asked about any of the nightmares."  
"No," Aziraphale nodded. He started stroking the demon's arm again. "Well, I haven't asked you about them because - I don't want to press you into anything, Crowley. And you didn't seem ready yet," he admitted. "I'm worried about you, you know. And - Well, even though I'm curious, I really want to give you the time you need. I thought you'd tell me when you're ready, I thought -"

He stopped, surprised about all the things that had suddenly come from his mouth.

"I thought maybe you just didn't want me to know," he said after another moment. The angel sighed, feeling like what he said still wasn't enough. "I'm sorry, Crowley. I - I just want to help."

Crowley's fingers started playing with Aziraphale's collar. He did not meet the angel's gaze.

"Do you want me to tell you?", he asked.  
"No, the quiestion is, do _you_ want to tell me?" Aziraphale asked instead.

The demon looked at him.  
After a while he just nodded slowly.

"Yes," Aziraphale whispered. He squeezed his arm gently. "I would like to know, then."

Crowley sighed and Aziraphale felt his breath on his face. It sent another shiver down his spine.  
The demon just nodded and looked at him. There was such an intensity in his eyes now that Aziraphale couldn't look anywhere else. He was caught by his eyes like a fly would get caught in honey.

"I keep dreaming about the things they did to me, Aziraphale," Crowley whispered. "Are you sure you want to know?" 

He looked so unsure that Aziraphale took the demon's hands into his own and squeezed them.  
He nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Because that's what it means to be there for each other, isn't it?" He gave him a smile, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. "I'm here for you, Crowley."

The demon gulped, before nodding slowly.  
Then he sat up, letting go of Aziraphale's hands.

The angel sat up as well, looking at him, giving time.

"Well, it happened when - when a few of my old _demon friends_ found me," he began with a quiet voice, lowering his head.

Loose strands of hair fell into his eyes but he didn't seem to care. He even seemed to like it, to use it so he wouldn't have to look at Aziraphale.

"I wanted to visit you, you know? The day they took me." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I didn't use the Bentley that day. I wanted to take you for a walk because - well, there was something that I -" He stopped talking, tried again. "I wanted to tell you something."  
"What was it?" Aziraphale wanted to know but Crowley just shook his head. He still would not meet his eyes.  
"Doesn't matter now," he said dismissively. "I was on my way to the bookshop when it happened. Hastur, he appeared out of nowhere. You know." He looked at him again, hesitating. "One of those demons who took you for trial. After we had switched bodies."  
"Yes, I think I remember" Aziraphale said, nodding. "What did he do?" he asked as gently as he could.

Crowley hesitated.

"A few other demons, who were still kinda upset that Hell let me go, joined him. They - I don't remember, to be honest. I think they got me unconcious? I woke up in Hell, tied to the corner in some dark cell."  
"But -" 

Even though he had not expected anything else, Aziraphale shook his head in disbelieve.

"But they promised," he said, feeling desperate. He didn't know why but knowing the truth, hearing it from Crowley himself, hurt much more than he would have thought. "They promised to let you go," he whispered. "They - They promised. They promised to leave us alone."  
"They're demons, Aziraphale," Crowley said with a such a soft voice that it made Aziraphale's heart ache. "It's what they do. Lying's part of their job description, remember?"  
"It's not what you do," Aziraphale said stubbornly.

He looked down at the mattress, tried to hide the anger he was feeling from Crowley.

"What happened next?" he managed to ask, still trying to hide all the emotions that he could feel inside his chest. He lifted his head and looked at Crowley. He could see the pain in the demon's eyes.  
"They tied me up and asked me a lot of questions," he said quietly. "I wasn't stupid enough to answer any of them," he added. "It would've gotten you into trouble as well."  
"All those bruises," Aziraphale whispered, biting his lips as he felt another wave of anger.  
"Yeah." Crowley just nodded. He hesitated before he continued talking. "They kept asking me questions," he said, "and I kept ignoring them. They didn't like that. And so they tried to hurt me. They enjoyed it."

Aziraphale reached for Crowley's hand but then stopped.  
He didn't dare to touch him, he felt sick to his stomach.

Crowley brushed Aziraphale's hands with his own. Hesitating, the angel took them. He pressed them to his chest gently, stroking them.  
He looked at them for a moment. He remembered all the dark bruises on his wrists. He remembered the cuts on his face.

He almost threw up.

"I got used to it after a while," Crowley continued and he tried to hide behind one of those cool faces he used to wear.  
But it didn't look cool at all, it looked more like a grimace. He was drowning in pain.

Aziraphale squeezed his hands gently. He tried to show him that it was alright now, that he was safe here with him.  
That he could trust him.

"I mean, I'm a demon," Crowley said, still trying to maintain a cool face, "that means I've been through worse, right?"

It was a poor attempt at a joke.  
Aziraphale could hear the pain in his voice, even through the fake chuckle that followed after. He could hear all the emotions he had tried to hide from him.

"It - it hurt, angel," he said, his voice shaking now. "And it started getting even uglier when they went for my head." He tried to breathe, tried to stay calm. "They sarted playing with it. They messed it up."

Crowley gulped harder than Aziraphale had ever seen anyone gulp. He lowered his head and his hands had started shaking.

"What did they do, Crowley?" Aziraphale whispered as gently as he could with all the anger that was rolling inside him.  
He squeezed his hands once more.

"They made me believe things," Crowley said after a while. "They - they told me things they knew would hurt me."  
"What things?" Aziraphale asked but Crowley didn't say another word.

He hesitated, stayed silent for a long time.

"They - They told me Heaven came for you as well," he whispered after a while. His words were so quiet it was hard to understand what he was saying. "Gabriel was there, angel," he continued.

He looked at him.  
There was so much pain in his face that Aziraphale could feel tears burning in his eyes.

"They came down there just to tell me that they had captured you too. They lied to me, angel, Gabriel lied straight to my face. They told me that Heaven was doing the same to you that Hell was doing to me."

There were tears rolling down Crowley's cheeks. Aziraphale let go of his hands and gently cupped the demon's face instead.  
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Crowley's.

"You believed them," he sniffled. He could feel the demon's hands on his own.  
"Of course I did, Aziraphale," he said, his voice shaking. "I believed every single word they said. And I was so scared, I thought they'd make you fall or -"

He stopped. He looked like he couldn't bring himself to say what else he had thought they would do to him.  
Instead, he shook his head and looked at the angel.

A sob that was filled with raw, deep pain escaped his mouth when their eyes met and Crowley seemed to be utterly grateful for Aziraphale's arms that pulled him into a hug.  
He started sobbing even harder, holding on to the angel's body. Again, he hid his face against Aziraphale's neck and pulled him closer and closer until there was no space left between them. His fingers dug into the angel's back and it almost hurt but Aziraphale didn't mind.

"I'm here Crowley," he whispered into his ear. He didn't know what else to say.  
"I am so scared, angel," Crowley sobbed against his neck where Aziraphale could feel his tears on his skin.  
"I won't let any of that ever happen again, my dear", the angel said. "I promise, Crowley. I promise."  
"But what if they take you?" Crowley asked, raising his head to look at Aziraphale. The angel could see the tears streaming down his face. "What if they make you fall? What if I am the reason?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth but he did not know what to say. He did not know how.  
He gently cupped the demon's face with both of his hands. With his thumbs he wiped away his tears.

"Maybe they will come for me," he finally said, nodding gently. "I don't know, maybe they will throw me out of Heaven and make me fall." His voice started shaking a bit but he forced himself to continue talking. "But maybe - maybe being a fallen angel isn't the worst thing that could happen to me anymore," he said softly.

Crowley looked at him as if he was convinced that the angel had lost his mind.  
But Aziraphale meant it.

"I kept thinking of you, you know," Crowley admitted after a while. "I think - No, I know that's what kept me alive down there."

He sniffled but he raised his head again and looked at Aziraphale. New tears were running down his face.

"I started doubting them, you know?" he continued. "Because they're demons. And when it comes to demons the only thing one can always rely on is that they're lying. I didn't want to believe that you - I knew I had to get out, I had to see for myself."

He raised his hand and touched Aziraphale's cheek with his shaking fingers.  
Aziraphale noticed that he had started crying, too.

"How did you get out?" he managed to ask. "They did not let you go. You must have escaped."  
"It - it hurt," the demon said, not looking at the angel while he spoke. He grabbed Aziraphale's arms for support. His hands were shaking. "They tried to stop me," he whispered. "I got hurt and - I think that's why I can't miracle anymore. It took me so much power to fight back that I - I must have drained myself and -"

He bit his lip so hard Aziraphale started worrying his skin would break. Gently, he pulled him back into his arms.  
Crowley's head came to rest on his shoulder and he could hear the muffled sobs as the demon buried his face in his shirt.

"We will find a way," Aziraphale promised, combing his hair again gently. He liked the feeling of Crowley's hair between his fingers. It helped him calm down. "We will take care of you and we will work on those miracles, my dear," he continued. "And I'll help you, I promise."

He nodded and let his forehead rest on top of Crowley's head, his nose buried in his hair. He took a deep breath, smelling him, knowing his smell well.  
His heart started beating faster again when Crowley pulled him closer.

"Thank you, angel," he whipsered and his dry lips touched the angel's neck while he spoke. "I owe you so much."  
"No, you owe me nothing, my dear boy." Aziraphale shook his head. "I promised to take care of you and I will. I told you, that's what it means to be there for each other."

Crowley didn't say anything but he sniffled again and pulled the angel even closer.

Aziraphale smiled a sad smile, feeling tears in his eyes.  
He tilted his head a bit and pressed a gentle kiss to the demon's forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting this right was really hard for me. i wasn't exactly satisfied with my german version but it was even harder to deal with this in english... so i'm very open for constructive criticism. just don't be too harsh please ':)


	11. Suits You

"A bit to the left," Aziraphale tried to navigate. "No, that's too much, my dear." He chuckled softly. "Now just a bit to the right again."

Crowley moved the painting a bit to the right, being much more careful now than with his first try. Then he glanced over his shoulder and waited for Aziraphale to say something.

"Perfect," the angel said with a satisfied nod.  
He smiled and snapped his fingers.

Two small hooks appeared on the wall. Crowley hesitated for a moment before he let go of the old painting and stepped back to look at it.  
He looked rather satisfied himself.

At some point they had finally decided to leave the bed. While Aziraphale had made them some late breakfast, Crowley had continued his work in the bedroom.  
He had started working on the angel's old dressers, still not touching any of his drawers, though. Right after breakfast Aziraphale had given in and had tended to those dressers and had emptied the cluttered drawers so Crowley could have some of them for his personal things.

The demon had decided to put all his jewellry into one of the larger drawers, being quite vain about where every single piece went. He did need some time rearranging things over and over again but Aziraphale didn't mind.  
He enjoyed giving Crowley the space he needed.

All his new watches, rings, bracelets, wristbands, necklaces, belts and a few pairs of earrings were now sorted neatly into the drawers instead of the bundles of old papers, the candles and the books that had been stuffed in there before.

Emptying another dresser, Aziraphale had found a couple of long forgotten bow ties in one of the drawers. Crowley had taken them from him immediatly and had put them into one of his drawers, next to his own necklaces.  
He didn't really seem to fully trust Aziraphale with the concept of cleaning yet.

And after that they had both tended to the painting Crowley had chosen the day before.

Aziraphale felt quite satisfied with their work.

"I like it," he smiled. He handed Crowley the mug he had put on one of the dressers earlier.  
"We're not done yet," Crowley said.

He took the cup of tea from Aziraphale and nodded once, before taking a sip. A small miracle of the angel had been keeping the tea hot and fresh while they had worked.

"What's next, then?" Aziraphale asked, his own warm mug in his hands.  
"There's still your nightstands," Crowley said, chuckling softly when Aziraphale groaned. "I told you, angel, your personal stuff is none of my business. "Oh," he startef grinning, "and I'd like to have some plants."

Aziraphale shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"Well, I'm sure we can do that," he said. "Oh, er. But wouldn't it be nicer to have them down in the shop?" He pointed at the tiny window in the room. "That window seems a bit small. There's hardly ever any sunlight up here, you see. But there are much bigger ones downstairs."

Crowley seemed to be considering this for a couple of seconds. Then he just shrugged.

"Alright, sure. As long as I get some plants to frighten," he said, grinning slightly.

He finished his tea with one big gulp and put his empty mug back on one of the dressers again. Then he pointed at the empty space next to the bed where he had planned to put the plants.

"So what do we put there instead?" he asked Aziraphale.  
"Well, I've had an idea last night." The angel finished his tea as well and reached for Crowley's empty mug. "I've got my books, you see, and the kitchen for some cooking which I enjoy doing. And we will get you some plants, of course. But I thought that maybe you might enjoy a second hobby?"  
"A second hobby?" Crowley crossed his arms, he looked suspicious. "Right. And what kind of hobby is it you're thinking of exactly?"

Aziraphale shrugged nervously.

"Well, er - Painting, maybe?", he suggested.

Crowley did not argue.  
He didn't really say anything at all.

"I mean, you seemed quite fond of those paintings in the shop yesterday. And you're good at decorating," Aziraphale tried to explain, pointing at the room with his hand. "You seem to have a rather creative mind, dear. So I just thought," he shrugged, "well, maybe he would like to paint."

He waited for some reaction.  
Crowley seemed to be thinking about it.

"Painting," he repeated in a quiet voice, scratching his chin absentmindedly while he did so. "I mean, I did something like painting before." Aziraphale gave him a confused look that made him chuckle softly. "You know, hanging the stars and everything," he explained. "That felt a lot like painting to me. In a way."  
"You -" Aziraphale blinked, shaking his head. "What? You helped hanging the stars? You? You hung the stars?" he asked. "But why didn't you ever tell me, dear?"  
"Well, I did now, didn't I?" Crowley said, shrugging.

It looked like he was blushing. Aziraphale smiled and decided not to press the matter any further, he just shook his head, still trying to work through that information.

"Alright," he said. "So what do you say, painting it is?"

Crowley hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged and nodded, trying to look cool about it.  
But the small smile on his lips gave him away.

"Painting it is," he said.  
"Great," Aziraphale smiles. "You see, I know a nice little shop in London where we can get you some art supplies," he babbled happily, waving for the demon to follow him downstairs as he wanted to bring their empty mugs to the kitchen. "We could go there today if you like," he suggested. "Oh, and we could buy your plants in London as well."  
"We could use the Bentley," Crowley suggested, following the angel into the kitchen. "We could bring it here, along with the Da Vinci and the statue. And my pen," he added with a soft chuckle that made Aziraphale's get all fuzzy and warm. "Then we could give that garage back. Funny thing, an angel stealing a garage from some human."

Aziraphale who did not really think that what he had done with the human and the garage did exactly cound as stealing felt a sudden heat in his cheeks. He decided not to answer, he knew Crowley loved it to tease him.  
Instead, he agreed to the rest of Crowley's plan. They decided to go soon and Crowley mentioned that he would like to use the bathroom first to freshen up a bit.

He did not need any help this time and Aziraphale couldn't help but notice that he felt almost a bit disappointed about that. He tried to ignore that thought, knowing well that he should be happy for Crowley.  
The problem was, he was happy for him. But still he felt that strange stinge of disappointment. And he didn't even know where it came from.

Aziraphale used the bathroom after Crowley was done showering.  
When he was finished as well he decided to go looking for the bow ties he had found earlier. He thought that maybe it would be nice to wear something else every once in a while, now that he had found those long forgotten ones in that drawer.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," he apologised as soon as he stepped into the room because he noticed Crowley standing in front of the mirror.

The demon was holding a hanger in each of his hands. He had been holding the tops to his chest, alternating between the two pieces.  
When Aziraphale had burst into the room, though, he had whirled around, looking startled.

Aziraphale caught himself gazing at Crowley's body and tried to look away. But he couldn't help but glance at him again every now and then.  
Crowley was wearing a grey shirt after his shower and a long black skirt that brushed against his ankles when he moved. A slip in the soft fabric showed quite a few inches of his leg and Aziraphale noticed the leathery, high-heeled boots on his feet.

Feeling a sudden heat in his cheeks, Aziraphale tried not to look at his calves too intensely.

Instead, he raised his head and looked at Crowley's face.  
Their eyes met for a moment.

"Well, erm, it's one of the new skirts we bought yesterday," Crowley explained unnecessarily, fidgeting with the hem of his skirt.

He lowered his head for a few seconds, then looked at the angel again. 

"You don't like it," he said accusingly and suddenly there was that disappointment in his face.

Aziraphale did not know what was happening but he could see sudden anxiety in Crowley's face. He could see it in his whole body.  
He saw it in his shoulders that were so tense it looked more than just uncomfortable. He could see it in his hands that were still fidgeting with the hem of his skirt. And he could see it in that small wrinkle between his brows he didn't seem to know he had when he got anxious. It made Aziraphale feel sad.

"I didn't even say that, Crowley," Aziraphale said, stepping closer to him, still not knowing what was wrong.  
"That doesn't mean you don't think it." Crowley lifted his chin as if being hurt in his honor. "You think it doesn't suit me."

Aziraphale blinked.  
He felt confused.

"Crowley," he said softly and he could see the way the demon shivered slightly when he said his name like that. "Tell me, what is it, dear? What's wrong?"  
"Nothing." He lowered his head so the angel could not see his face.

But Aziraphale had known him for so long. He did not even need to see his face to read Crowley like someone else would read a book.  
And he had seen enough.

He took another small step towards the demon and touched his arm. Crowley lifted his head a bit and looked at him.

"What's wrong?", Aziraphale repeated gently and he watched Crowley bite his lip. "Are you sure it's about the skirt?" he asked. "Or could it be that maybe this is about something else? Because it seems to me that this isn't about clothes at all, is it?"

Crowley shook his head slowly.

"Then talk to me, Crowley," Aziraphale said, squeezing his arm gently. "Because I can't help you if you keep shutting me out like that."  
"I'm worried," Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale tilted his head.

"Because -" The demon sighed. "Because I don't want to lose you, angel," he said with a quiet voice, lookikg at him. "I'm so worried that one day you'll remember that you should be despising me. And I'm worried that you'll leave me and that I won't ever see you again."

He looked so fragile again, talking about his fears and worries. He had never done such things before. He had usually made jokes about things, had simply shrugged it off.  
It hurt Aziraphale to see him like that.

But he knew it was a good start, talking about what troubled him.

"Crowley," he said softly, squeezing his arm once more. "Remind me, how long have we been friends?"

The demon looked at him and Aziraphale could see in his face that he recognised his own words from more than five years ago.

"Six thousand years," he andwered. The angel nodded, smiling gently.  
"A bit too late to start worrying about us now, don't you think?" he asked. "I've been with you for such a long time, my dear, why should I leave you now?"

Crowley hesitated.

"Sometimes I'm afraid that you don't actually like me," he admitted, his voice so quiet that it sounded more like a whisper.

Aziraphale wanted to say something but Crowley shook his head and held up his hand to show him that he wasn't finished yet.

"I mean, it's not even about us being on opposite sides or anything like that. It's just that I - I like you, Aziraphale," he said, his hands started fidgeting with the fabric of his skirt again. "I really do. And I - I need you to like me back so badly. Because if you don't," he looked at him, "then there's no one else left. You're the only one who ever really seemed to care about me."

Aziraphale opened his mouth but he did not know what to say.  
He sighed and looked at Crowley.

"I like you, Crowley," he said after another moment, squeezing his arm once more. "I care about you."

They just looked at each other for a while.

"Just ask, alright?", Aziraphale said when Crowley kept quiet. "Whenever you start worrying again, just ask me whether I like you or not."  
"Do you like me?" Crowley asked without hesitation. He took a small step towards the angel and Aziraphale suddenly noticed that their noses would probably have brushed if Crowley hadn't been much taller due to his heels. The angel gulped, trying to remember what he wanted to say.  
"I do," he said, nodding. "I do, Crowley. I like you."

A sheepish smile started tugging at the corners of the demon's mouth and the angel noticed how good he looked when he smiled like that.  
Like all the weight was just falling off his shoulders.

"Now let me grab a bow tie and then let us go," Aziraphale said with a smile before parting from Crowley.

He stepped towards the dresser and opened the drawer with Crowley's jewellry and his bow ties.

After a few seconds he decided on a beige one with white leafs on them. The prints looked a bit like the wings of an angel.

He couldn't really remember ever having bought it and started wondering whether it had been a gift. He didn't know that, either.  
He decided that it didn't matter right now and took it from the drawer and put the band around his neck.

"Which one?" Crowley asked just when Aziraphale was about to tie the bow tie.  
He let go of it and turned around to see what the demon had meant.

He was still holding the two tops in his hands, waving them slightly.  
Both of them seemed to be some sort of blouses. The one in his left hand did not have any sleeves but a big round collar. The one in his right hand had long sleeves and it was made of black lace.

Aziraphale pointed at the second one.

Crowley turned it towards himself and looked at it for a moment before he nodded. He put the other top away again.

Without further ado he took off his grey shirt.  
Aziraphale looked away.

He tried to ignore the voice in his head that told him that he had seen Crowley like this before. He tried to ignore it asking him why he felt embarrassed now.  
He did not know.

"What do you think?" Crowley asked and when Aziraphale raised his head again he could see him tugging the top into his skirt.  
"I, er -" He nodded absentmindedly and looked at him.

With another flash of heat rising to his face, Aziraphale noticed that the fabric of Crowley's top was slightly transparent. And this time there was no shirt that prevented him from seeing the demon's pale skin beneath so he ended up staring at it for what certainly felt a bit too long.  
He tried to look somewhere else.

"You look - you look great, Crowley," he said, looking at his chin instead. He didn't dare to look him in the eyes. "Yed, I think it suits you."  
"Thanks, angel. Oh, and," Crowley stepped closer, tugging at the unfinished bow tie around his neck, "I like that bow tie on you, by the way." He grinned at him. "I'm glad you seem to like it, too. I chose it for you yesterday when you were not looking."


	12. Get In, Angel

Aziraphale stayed behind, watching Crowley leave the small bedroom through the door. He could hear his steps, could hear him going down the stairs.

The angel shook his head, then he hurried towards the mirror that Crowley had used before and lifted his chin. After years and years of practise, Aziraphale had no problems tying his bow ties but today it seemed to take him a bit more time than was usual for him before he finally got it right.  
He checked his reflection in the mirror to make sure everything was in its place. Then he nodded once and decided to follow Crowley downstairs.

Aziraphale found the demon in the living-room, sprawled over his favourite armchair and waiting for him. He had thrown one of his long legs over the armrest anf the other one was dangling from the seat with his toes touching the floor. His elbow was resting on the backrest.  
He looked content.

When Crowley heard him approaching he lifted his head and smiled at the angel.  
Then he reached out and showed him the hair tie in his hand.

"Could you, you know -" He sat up a bit and just pointed at his hair.  
"Sit up and keep still," Aziraphale said, taking the tie from his hand. 

Crowley did not sit up.  
He just sank back into the position he had been lounging in before and flashed the angel a smile.

"Actually," said Aziraphale, the tie between his teeth now, "I'm aware you don't need my help with that. You know how to tie up your hair, I've seen you do it before."  
Crowley shrugged, a small grin on his lips. "Well, maybe I just like it when you touch my hair," he said, closing his eyes.

Aziraphale did not know what to say to that so he decided to say nothing at all. He continued working on the demon's hair, turning it into a small bun again, but using all of his hair this time.

"Go get your glasses and your coat," he said when he was satisfied with the result. "And then let us go."

Crowley climbed from the armchair to do as he was told. But before he could start walking away, Aziraphale grabbed him by the arm, holding him back gently.

He got confused by how soft the skin of his wrist felt under his fingertips.

"Er -" He tried to remember what he had wanted to ask him. "Er, what - What pronouns should I use today?" he asked.  
"Huh?" Crowley looked confused.  
"I mean, you're wearing - Well, these clothes often seem to be prefered by female humans. And you, you like to - to experiment with - with that sometimes," Aziraphale said, shrugging slightly. "So I just wondered whether -"  
"Angel," Crowley interrupted gently. "I'm just Crowley, always just Crowley." He gave him a look. "And you can call me whatever pronouns you'd like to call me. I guess I'm fine with all of them."

Hesitating for a moment, the angel simply nodded. Then he let go of Crowley's wrist so he could go and get his things.

They did not talk during their way to the bus stop.  
It started raining after some time but it was over again before the bus arrived at the stop near the garages.

Crowley began smiling when he saw the Bentley.  
He even started stroking parts of it again, touching the car's roof and the hood gently as if to make sure everything was still in place.

"Come on, get in, angel," the demon said. He poked his head through the driver's window and looked at him. He had noticed Aziraphale's hesitation. "What's wrong?"  
"Er, are you sure you still know how to drive that car?" the angel asked which resulted in Crowley raising both of his brows at him. "I mean, you haven't been driving for years now, have you? Maybe you forgot and -"  
"Yes, of course I know how to drive the car," Crowley interrupted him, shaking his head impatiently. "Please, I would never forget, angel, not in a thousand years. And now get in. I'll just show you."

Aziraphale sighed, then he did as he was told and got into the car. There was a funny feeling in his stomach.

"Oh," he said after he had closed the door, noticing something in the glove department. He leaned forward. "Look, there is some of your old music." He grabbed a promising-looking CD that turned out to be a Vivaldi one. Satiesfied with that, Aziraphale put it into the car's radio.  
"No, angel," Crowley tried to prevent him, "it won't -"

Crowley fell silent as Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody started blasting through the car's speakers. With an amused expression on his face he leaned towards the radio and turned the volume down a bit.

"It's the Bentley, angel," he said with a shrug. "Every album turns into the Queen Best Of after being left in the car for a fortnight. Which means right now it's Queen or no music at all."

Aziraphale sighed.  
He clearly would have prefered Vivaldi. But he did not dare saying that because he didn't want to upset Crowley. And so he just leaned back and nodded, telling him to play Queen.  
It was still much better than silence.

"So, where do you want to go first, angel?" Crowley asked and excitement was radiating from him, so strong it felt like Aziraphale could touch it in the air.

Crowley started the engines.

"I, er -" Aziraphale hesitated and grabbed the handle above the door, not sure whether he actually wanted to be in a car with Crowley again. "I don't know. I'd say, er -" He sighed heavily. "I don't care. Please just try not to kill anyone on the way dear."

Crowley grinned and kicked the accelerator.

The Bentley shot forward and it felt exactly like old times again. Except this time Aziraphale did not make an effort anymore to point out to Crowley that he was going too fast. Instead, he just held onto his seat while the demon drove.

A song called Another One Bites the Dust was blaring through the car's speakers now and Aziraphale could feel the bass vibrate beneath his fingertips.

"Would you mind - Ah!" The angel shut his eyes and grabbed the seat even tighter as he felt a sudden sickness in his stomach. "Would you mind going just a tiny bit slower, Crowley? Please!"

Crowley did as he was told.

Aziraphale felt rather confused by that, especially when he slowly opened his eyes again and saw that the needle of the speedometer had sunken beneath the demon's usual speed of 90 miles per hour.

He watched him. He didn't trust this.  
Crowley did not seem to notice, though, he was concentrating on the street for once. And he was paying attention to the music, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he bopped his head to the beat.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked after a while, returning Aziraphale's gaze for a few seconds. The angel felt caught and looked away.  
"I wasn't," he lied.  
"Right," Crowley said.

"You're not going over the speed limit," Aziraphale pointed out, looking at the speedometer again. He gave Crowley another look. "I mean, this is the first time I'm seeing you driving at a reasonable speed. What happened?"  
"Well -" Crowley let go of the steering wheel for a second just to shrug. Aziraphale felt his heart miss a beat at that and Crowley grinned at him. "You asked me to go slower, didn't you?" he continued, sounding like it was the most obvious thing.  
"Yes, but since when are you listening to me when it comes to driving?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley just gave him another look.  
He did not answer that question.

"I think I'd like to go for a walk. After buying the plants and the art supplies, I mean. What do you think?" the demon asked after a while.  
"Maybe St. James's Park?" Aziraphale suggested and Crowley nodded.  
"Sounds great." He started grinning. "You know what, angel? Let's buy some bread as well. It's been years since I've seen any ducks."  
"I bet they've missed you," Aziraphale said softly.

He reached out for him and touched his arm. 

Then, without giving it a second thought, he let his hand drop to Crowley's knee. Aziraphale had not even been paying attention to it.  
He realised what he had done when he felt a warm hand on top of his own.

Crowley lifted it every now and then to change gears or to grab the wheel with both hands for a moment. But then he always returned it to Aziraphale's.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Aziraphale glanced at Crowley but the demon wasn't looking at him.  
He was smiling, though, looking a bit smug. 

"Go right," Aziraphale said after a while.  
The demon nodded and went right.

After a few more minutes they finally reached the small shop Aziraphale had been looking for. There were at least ten easels of different sizes in its windows and even more different books, brushes and colours.  
Aziraphale pointed at the end of the street.

"Look," the angel said. He leaned over a bit to point through Crowley's window, touching his knee again for support. "There's a plant shop down the road, see?"

Crowley, who had been looking down at the hand that was touching his knee, raised his head and followed the direction of Aziraphale's finger. He nodded when he saw the shop at the end of the street.

"Right. Why don't you go and buy all that art stuff and I'll go for the plant shop?" he asked. "We could meet there. Finding the right plants to frighten needs some time," he grinned, rubbing his hands.

Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head in amusement.  
Then he leaned back again, letting go of Crowley's knee, and got out of the car.

"See you in a moment," he said after he had closed the door behind him.  
He saw Crowley nodding and waving at him before he started the engines.

"Er, hello, could you show me your easels, please?" Aziraphale asked, stepping into the shop. An employee, a young man with long reddish blonde hair looked up from a book and smiled at him.  
"Yes, of course." He tied his hair into a pony tail and motioned for the angel to follow him. "Please, follow me."

They went into another room that was stuffed with easels of different sizes, different material, different colour, different everything.  
Aziraphale felt a bit overwhelmed by the number of easels.

"Are you looking for an easel for yourself?" the man asked with a smile. He must have noticed the look of worry on the angel's face.  
"No, it's for my, er -" Aziraphale stopped. "Er, well, it's for a very good friend."  
"How tall, would you say, is that very good friend of yours?"  
"A bit taller than me," Aziraphale said, raising his hand over his head.

Was Crowley this tall? Or was he even taller?

Maybe it was the shoes the demon was wearing today that made Aziraphale miscalculate his actual height?  
What if he wasn't this tall? Would that be a problem for choosing the right easel?

"I'd recomment one of these, then," the young man said, leading Aziraphale away.  
The angel followed him, thankful for his help.

He pointed at a small selection of easels that seemed to be quite tall and even looked a bit skinny.  
Just like Crowley, Aziraphale thought, supressing a chuckle.

"Er." He still did not know what to look for exactly so he just pointed at one of them blindly. It seemed to be made of some dark wood he liked. "This one, I think?"  
"You're no painter, are you?" The man started laughing a very nice loud laugh. Aziraphale shook his head, feeling a bit embarrassed.  
"No, my friend, he's the painter," he admitted. "I'm more of a bookish person, you see."

The employee gave him a smile.

"Don't worry, I'll help you. Just tell me a few things about your friend, what's he like?", he asked, crossing his arms across his chest. He was looking like a man on a mission.  
"Er, he's -" Aziraphale hesitated. He didn't know what kind of information the man needed. He just wanted to buy an easel, didn't he?  
"Just tell me anything that comes to you mind," the man suggested gently. "Anything at all."

Aziraphale thought about it.

"He's a nice person," he said. "Oh, but he wouldn't want me to say that. I think he'd be embarrassed if he heard it. But he is, you know. And, er, he likes things to be clean, we're very different about that. And -" He started smiling. "Oh, he loves fast things," he continued. "Fast and neat things, yes."  
The words seemed to be gushing out of his mouth now.

"Sounds like he wants to be one of those bad boys," the man said, winking at him jokingly. This time it was Aziraphale who laughed heartily.  
"Yes. Yes, you're right, I think he does," he agreed. "But he certainly isn't. Oh, er, but don't tell anyone I said that, either."

The young man gave him a smile and brought two fingers to his lips, moving them across his face like he was sealing his mouth.

"I think," he said, grabbing one of the easels, "that this one would a good choice for him. You see, most of our easels are made of wood. That means colours get stuck to it after a while. This one, though, is made of metal. It's easier to clean and it looks a bit more modern and stylish. And it's adjustable. That means your friend can use canvases of different sizes, even on the outside." He pointed at the frame's feet. "Because the feet are adjustable, too. And it's super easy to transport. Oh, he can also paint in the dark if he likes to, since there's a lamp up here." He pointed at it and then looked at the angel.  
"Er." Aziraphale nodded. He tried to process all the information he had just heard. "Yes, I think I'd like to buy this one, then?"

The man smiled and within seconds he had folded the easel. It really was the perfect size for transportation now.  
He handed it Aziraphale.

"Oh, it doesn't weigh anything at all," the angel said when he felt the easel in his hands.  
"Told you it's really easy to transport," the man noted with a smile. "Now, what about brushes and colours and such things? Canvases? Do you have any of those yet?"  
"Er, no," Aziraphale admitted. "We're kind of just getting started with everything."

The man nodded knowingly.

"I'll put together a bag of some beginners's supplies if you'd like me to. Then you can come back as soon as you need more or if you want to try something new. And you can bring your friend." He smiled. "I'd like to meet your - your friend. The not-so-bad-boy."  
"Er, that would be very kind of you, yes," Aziraphale said with a small nod.  
"Alright. I'll be right back. You can have a look at our other things while I'm gone."

He pointed at the books and then left the angel to get some supplies for Crowley.

Aziraphale had a look at the books. He thumbed through a few of them and smiled whenever he saw something he liked. After a while he found a book with a pencil drawing of a duck on the cover Chuckling softly, he took it from the shelf and opened it.  
It contained drawings, paintings and sketches of ducks.

Aziraphale started grinning.

"Did you find something you like?" the young man asked when he returned with a bag full of supplies.

Aziraphale nodded and showed him the book.  
He could see the confused look on his face but then the man just shrugged and motioned for the angel to follow him.

Aziraphale payed with his credit card.

"Thank you so much for your help," he said. "I think my friend and I, we will come back soon."  
"I'm very much looking forward to that," the man said with a grin.


	13. Let's Get This Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what even is a posting schedule  
> (also it's been a very long day. i'm totally knackered. so excuse the typos and mistakes, please)

When Aziraphale finally arrived at the plant shop he saw Crowley waiting for him outside.  
He was leaning against his Bentley, both of his arms crossed across his chest lazily. When he noticed the angel he lifted one of his arms and waved at him. 

"I think I found some plants that are worthy," he greeted Aziraphale happily. At the same time he went for the trunk of his car and opened it with one swift movement so the angel could put away the easel and the bag with art supplies that he had just bought.  
"And I got you some beginner's supplies. They told me to come back for more," Aziraphale said. "The shop was rather lovely, I think you would like it."  
"Sure." Crowley shrugged and closed the trunk. He even slapped it gently and Aziraphale caught the fond little smile on the demon's lips while he did so. "We've got the Bentley," Crowley said, still petting the car. "We can go where ever we want to go now. But first," he nodded towards the shop, "the plants."

He reached out his hand, his palm facing the sky. For a moment, just for a small second, Aziraphale was nearly convinced that Crowley wanted to take his hand and he almost grabbed it with his own.  
But then the demon started wriggling his long thin fingers impatiently. He sighed.

"Your credit card, angel, I need it," he said and Aziraphale blinked.  
"Oh, er - Yes, sure, I, er -" He shoved his hands into his pockets and started rummaging through them, looking for his credit card. "Here," he mumbled when he felt it between his fingers and he handed it Crowley who nodded and took it from him.  
"Thanks," he said. "I mean," he gave him an evil little grin, "I could've just stolen the plants, you know. Haven't really done any mischief in a while. I could've used a miracle or two to -" He grimaced. His face suddenly looked like he had bitten into something bitter. "No", he said in a quiet voice. "No, I - I forgot. Actually, I can't."

He tried very hard to sound emotionless. Too hard, actually. And there was a fake smile on his lips, as he was trying to turn it into a joke.  
But Aziraphale knew him too well, he could see the pain on his face anyway.

He lifted his hand and touched Crowley's arm gently before letting go of it again.

"You will," Aziraphale promised, nodding at him. "I promised to help you with that, remember? But," he pointed at him with his finger, now threatening, "even when you can miracle again, we will not use any miracles for stealing." The demon opened his mouth to interrupt but Aziraphale did not let him. He just continued talking before the demon could say anything. "We won't do people any harm," he added and Crowley grimaced again.  
"You're no fun, angel," he mumbled quietly. "I'm a demon, what else am I supposed to do with my miracles?" he asked, looking a bit smug now. "Maybe I'll do harm when you're not looking."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him but did not say anything.   
nstead, he motioned for him to show him to the plants. Crowley lead the way.

He had chosen three plants that were standing near the counter, waiting for their new owner to pick them up.  
A young woman, an employee, had been looking after them and Crowley went to talk to her.

Their voices were too quiet for the angel to understand but Crowley pointed at things every now and then. Aziraphale didn't know very much about plants so he did not really try to listen to what they were saying.

Instead, he used the spare time to watch the young employee.

She was wearing a bright green apron and a pair of gloves of the same colour. There was the logo of the shop on the collar of her black shirt.  
Aziraphale did not miss the way she touched that collar every now and then while Crowley was talking to her. She smiled at him, looking like she wasn't even listening very closely. And when she wasn't touching her collar she was twisting strands of her long black hair around her finger.

Aziraphale had to admit that he did not like the sight of it very much.

He watched her glance at Crowleys lips a few times when the demon himself wasn't looking. And whenever he turned to look at her again she smiled a bit more.

Aziraphale felt an odd sting in his chest when he saw Crowley touch her arm. He hated watching her stroke his hip but he couldn't look away, either.

"Do you need any help with that?" the woman asked but Crowley who had taken a step back abruptedly just shook his head.

He bent down and took the biggest of the three plant pots. Then he lifted it with a small grunt and staggered towards Aziraphale, dropping it into his arms. The plant swayed a bit in its pot and its long leaves scratched Aziraphale's cheeks.

"No, leave them," he told the young employee when she went to take one of the remaining two pots to help them. "Angel?" His voice sounded a bit harsh but when he looked at Aziraphale but his face did not show any sign of anger or annoyance. He just nodded towards the door. "To the Bentley, please," he said, his voice much softer now.

He turned to grab the two remaining plants and fought with them for a moment before he finally managed to lift both of them simultaneously. 

Feeling a sudden wave of satisfcaction, Aziraphale noticed the face the woman had made at the sound of his nickname.  
It had darkened visibly, disappointmend radiating from her now.

"'Course he's queer," she sighed quietly but her words had been loud enough for the angel to overhear.

And for the first time Aziraphale noticed that it did not bother him at all that a stranger had mistaken Crowley and him for a couple.

"Bye!" Crowley said, nudging the angel's arm gently.

He went to his car and Aziraphale followed him.  
He waited while the demon put the three pots on the backseat.

For a moment he considered asking whether Crowley had liked the woman.  
Whether he would have liked spending a bit more time with her, maybe a bit more privately. Whether he had even noticed her glances and touches and whether it had bothered him at all.

But he dismissed the thought. He didn't want him to think he was jealous. He would just use it to make fun of him as he always did.  
Though Aziraphale had to admit that the burning feeling in his gut felt an awful lot like jealousy.

But before Aziraphale could say something in order to try and start small talk he heard Crowley hissing at the plants. He was half-way in the car now, his buttocks facing the angel.

"You're threatening them already, dear?" Aziraphale asked with a soft chuckle. Crowley shot him a look over his shoulder before glaring at the plants again.

"Just making clear that I am in charge now," he said. He hissed at the plants one more time and gave them a last threatening look for good measure before he finally closed the door.

"Right," he said, looking at Aziraphale. His voice sounded normal again, the hisses were gone. "Now, St. James's Park?"  
"St. James's Park," the angel agreed with a nod and they both climbed into the car.

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to Queen on the radio. You're My Best Friend was playing from it now and Crowley seemed to be quite fond of the song as he nodded when he heard the opening of the song and started bopping his head to the beat.

Aziraphale did not know the song at all so he sat back and tried to concentrate on the lyrics for a moment.

He felt a sudden wave of heat rushing to his cheeks when Crowley reached out and put his hand on the angel's knee.  
At the same time Aziraphale could hear the words 'And I want you to know that my feelings are true, I really love you, oh, you're my best friend' playing from the radio.

He gulped, feeling a bit embarrassed. He looked away and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart.  
He did not understand why he was reacting like this.

His cheeks were burning, his heart racing. His palms had started sweating and now they felt warm and wet. Aziraphale didn't like it.  
He wanted it to stop.

It would have been easy to put his own hand on top of Crowley's. But he did not dare to do so.  
He was aware of how wet his palm would feel and he did not want Crowley to know. He did not want to embarrass himself any further.

So he just kept looking at the radio, paying no attention at all to Crowley or even his side of the car.

"Oh, the bread," Aziraphale then gasped after a few minutes of this game, remembering what else he had wanted to buy. Crowley gave him a confused look. "We forgot to buy some bread," the angel reminded him.

Crowley started laughing.

"Relax, angel," he said, squeezing his thigh with his fingers. "We're in central London, I'm sure we'll find one place or another to buy some bread." 

He flashed him a smile and his thumb started playing with the seam of Aziraphale's trousers. He did not even seem to notice that he was doing it.  
Aziraphale could feel a shiver running down his spine. He was quite ticklish.

"Well, and you could always, you know -" The demon shrugged, looking smug.  
"What?" Aziraphale asked, deciding to play his little game for a moment. "I could always what?"  
"Use a bit of magic," Crowley said. "Let some bread appear out of nowhere, you know."  
"Except," the angel replied, "that it doesn't work like that. It doesn't simply appear out of nowhere. And you know that, Crowley." He gave him a look. "We don't steal from other people, do you hear me?"

Crowley sighed. He lifted his hand from the angel's knee and Aziraphale thought that he had annoyed the demon but he just changed gears. Then he let his hand drop back onto his leg.   
Again, his fingers started playing with the seam.

"You're no fun," Crowley mumbled.  
"Just keep your eyes on the road, please,"Aziraphale said before away again.

Then he finally decided to put his hand on Crowley's hand.  
It felt warm and soft and Crowley's fingers stopped playing with the seam of Aziraphale's trousers immediatly.

"Let's park the Bentley here and buy the bread over there," Aziraphale suggested, pointing at a small baker's shop at the end of the road.  
"Yeah, we can walk the rest to the park," Crowley agreed. "It's not far."

He parked the car, picking the one spot where parking was illegal.  
There were more than enough free spots.

Aziraphale didn't say anything and got out of the car. He noticed Crowley looking at him, though, both of his hands on the roof of the Bentley.  
The angel raised a brow at him.

"Tell me," Crowley leaned forward, "does everyone of your lot care so much about not stealing other people's things or is it just you?" He raised his brow in return, a smug little grin on his face.  
"We're angels," Aziraphale said. "We're good and we do the right thing and -"  
"Yeahh." Crowley waved his hand through the air, snorting impatiently. "I know, that's what you're all supposed to be. But tell me, do they actually care? Does any of them care as much about humans as you do?"

Aziraphale did not know what to say.

"I guess they don't," he admitted. Then he raised his finger and pointed it at Crowley. "But that does not mean that I'm going to change my mind about this, alright? We still won't steal. Period."

The demon just grinned at him and slapped the Bentley's roof once more before following Aziraphale who had started walking.

"Let's get this bread,", he said with a fist above his head. Then he laughed at what he had just said. Aziraphale did not understand. "Oh, angel." He sighed and shook his head dramatically. "You're the worst. How can you be so immune to anything that's even slightly modern?"  
"Oh," Aziraphale mumbled as he understood. "So it's some kind of slang, isn't it?"

Crowley buried his face in his palm, grunting.

"You really are the worst, angel," he said. "Even I know. And I've been gone for years."

Aziraphale simply shrugged at that.  
Then he grabbed the demon's arm to drag him along as he had stopped moving.

"Let's get this bread," he mumbled, repeating the demon's words absentmindedly.

He noticed the teenager near them while he did so. He looked up from his phone and gave the angel a funny look.  
Then he heard Crowley's laughter.

Aziraphale grumbled at that, almost sounding like Crowley when he wasn't liking something. He gave him one of his looks but when he saw the wrinkles around the demon's eyes and heard him laughing once more he couldn't suppress a quiet chuckle himself.

"Ouch, hey!" Crowley said, acting shocked. He was rubbing the side of his torso, right where the angel's elbow had hit him when Aziraphale had nudged him. "And I thought you were supposed to be the nice one," he grunted, a hand pressed to his side.

Together they bought a small loaf of bread that they decided to share. Crowley looked excited when Aziraphale handed him half of the bread.

At the park he started feeding bits of it to the ducks around him, a happy smile on his face when they began to pick up the crumps. 

"I almost forgot how much missed that," he said, looking quite satisfied.  
He threw a piece of bread at a dove that had tried to get something, too.

The piece was too big, though, and the dove would have choked on it if it wasn't for Aziraphale who snapped and helped the bird with a small miracle.

He gave the demon a glare but he didn't seem to care. He just shrugged and continued feeding the ducks.

"Look, angel!" he said after a while, pointing at something at his feet.  
But Aziraphale did not look at it, he was looking at Crowley instead.

He looked so healthy and happy, a gentle flush of colour on his cheeks.  
He looked good.

Aziraphale smiled at him, the piece of bread that he was holding in his own hands utterly forgotten.


	14. Walking, Among Other Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i translated this a few nights ago when i was absolutely knackered and i haven't had the time to edit any of it so excuse all the mistakes, please

"Come, let's go for a walk," Crowley said when he noticed that the ducks around him had had enough bread.

Aziraphale watched the birds for a moment, saw them sneaking around a wooden bench now that two men were sharing. They were sitting on it with as much space between them as possible and they did not even so much as glance at each other while they spoke.  
At least that's what they seemed to be doing, talking. Their words were too quiet for the angel to understand.

Every now and then they each threw a bit of food at the ducks that did not look like English food. And while Aziraphale could not understand what the two men were saying he could hear their accents and he was sure that they were talking about some war or some agreements, trying to negiciate between opposite parties or maybe even both.

It reminded him of the many secret meetings with Crowley.  
It all seemed like ages ago now.

But the demon wasn't paying any attention to the two men Aziraphale had been watching. He was shoving the remains of his bread into one of his inner pockets and then gave Aziraphale a little nod.  
He started walking but when he noticed that the angel was still looking at the men he stopped again.

"You alright?" he asked, giving Aziraphale a quizzical look.  
"Sure." Aziraphale followed him with a small jog, nodding. "Of course I am, my dear. Come, let's go."

They went next to each other for a while, both of them silent and sunken deep in their thoughts.

Aziraphale thought about Crowley.  
He did that a lot.

He was thinking about how much had changed between them and how fast it had happened.  
Just three days ago Aziraphale had found him on his door step, a traumatized wreck. He had been weak, had been empty, lost. He had barely been a shell of his old self. And now they were visiting St. James's Park together, feeding ducks again and walking by each other's side as if nothing bad had happened. As if all those cruel things that they had done to Crowley were nothing more than this small piece of him that haunted him in his dreams.  
As if he was someone different during the day.

"You're quiet," Crowley said after a while.

When Aziraphale lifted his head to look at him he noticed the way the demon was watching him. He did not even have to see through his dark glasses to know that there was worry in his eyes.

"I'm fine," he assured him, shoving his hands into his pockets because he did not know what else to do with them.

He sighed.  
He didn't know where this was leading. He didn't know anymore how he wanted things to be between Crowley and himself.

Aziraphale was very fond of the demon's company and he liked that they were seeing each other so much now. He had missed spending time with him. So much that he had tried to fall asleep numerous times just to see him in his dreams.  
And he was fine with sharing his flat with Crowley as well. He liked the thought a lot.

And that's what felt strange.  
It was all a bit unsettling.

Aziraphale couldn't remember when he had started feeling so drawn in by Crowley's presence.  
And a quiet voice somewhere in the back of his head told him in a whispery voice that he had been feeling like this for a very long time now. That the feeling had just grown stronger now that the demon was back again.

And it had grown so strong Aziraphale had to admit that he didn't like the thought of letting Crowley out of his sight. He wanted the demon to be near him where he knew he was safe, where he could protect him.

The angel knew that such thoughts did not mean any good. He had read enough stories to know that he should get rid of these thoughts now before it was too late.  
He knew that if he did not do something soon it would start eating at his head, maddening him slowly until he made some big mistake.

Aziraphale felt a thin hand that wrapped around his arm and that woke him from his thoughts. He looked at Crowley, feeling startled.

The demon had stopped walking and was holding Aziraphale back by his arm.

"What's wrong, angel?" he asked, looking worried, his brows drawn together.  
"I am fine, Crowley," Aziraphale repeated. "I told you, I -"  
"Angel," he interrupted gently.

His voice sounded so soft that Aziraphale could feel every single hair on his body, every pore of it that was reacting to the demon's voice, aching for him to say more. To say anything at all.  
A shiver ran down the angel's spine.

Crowley pulled away his glasses and gave the angel a look. There was worry in his eyes and he took a small step towards Aziraphale.  
He was so close again.

"I'm - I'm just a bit tired, that's it," Aziraphale said, not meeting the demon's eyes.

He did not want him to read in his face how much he confused him when he looked at him like that.  
He did not want him to know how his heart started beating a bit faster whenever he looked at him and saw a smile on his face. Or how much Aziraphale was aching for his touches, no matter how brief they were.

He did not want Crowley to know that it was him who was troubling the angel's mind.  
That it was him who confused him and who always fought his way back into his thoughts, no matter how much Aziraphale tried to think of something, anything else.

"Oh, dear duck, Aziraphale," Crowley swore under his breath. He shook his head. "You're even worse than I am, you know that? I mean, you're - you're the world's best listener. And yet you have no idea how to talk about yourself."  
"Dear duck?" Aziraphale asked, lifting his head slowly.  
"Didn't want to address the Almighty," Crowley said with a quick shrug. "Certainly didn't want to address anyone in Hell, either."  
"So you just decided to address the first thing you saw?" Aziraphale asked.  
"Guess I did," he nodded. "And I know you wouldn't allow actual profanity. But that's not the point now, is it, angel?"

Crowley sighed and closed his eyes.  
Then he opened them again and looked at Aziraphale, his gaze so soft that the angel could feel ghoose bumps all over his skin.

"Am I doing something wrong?" he asked and the weight of the worry in his voice seemed to pull at the angel's shoulders. "Is it because I'm not as good at this whole listening and helping thing as you are?"  
"What?" Aziraphale just shook his head, confused at Crowley's train of thought. "No. No, of course not. That's not even true, Crowley."  
"What is it then?" he asked, impatience dripping from his voice now. 

He stepped back, burying his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," Crowley said. "I guess you don't wanna talk right now, I get that." He nodded and put the glasses back on his face. "Okay, yeah, you didn't press me and I won't press you. Let's go feed more ducks, what do you think?" he asked.

Before Aziraphale could say anything he felt the demon's hand in his own. He intertwined their fingers, looking at the angel as if he was waiting for him to say something.

But Aziraphale just kept looking at their hands and he felt his ears ringing, his heart missing a beat or two.

"You okay?" Crowley asked. He looked worried again. "I mean, is - is this alright?" He lifted their hands.  
"I, er -" Aziraphale took a small breath before he looked at Crowley and nodded gently. "Yes," he said, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. "Yes, it is."

The demon looked relieved at that. He nodded.  
Then he squeezed the angel's hand gently.

They continued walking. After a while Crowley stopped again and pulled the angel towards a small wooden bench that was surrounded by a couple of quacking ducks.  
They sat down together. Crowley flashed Aziraphale a smile.

He started feeding the ducks with the remains of his piece of bread. Using his free hand, he threw small bits at them and just watched them fight and bicker.  
Aziraphale felt a smile on his lips.

He felt the sudden urge to lean against the demon next to him and, surprised at himself, he did so. He let his head sink onto Crowley's shoulder and closed his eyes.

He could hear the excited quacking noises of the ducks around them. He could hear the soft fabric of Crowley's coat under his ear. Whenever one of them moved he heard the quiet, rustling sound it made.  
He could also smell him. There was the faint smell of soap on Crowley's skin from when he had taken a shower earlier this day. And when the demon took a breath, Aziraphale could feel the movement of his shoulders beneath his head. It was a steady rhythm, gentle and relaxing.

Aziraphale also felt the warmth of Crowley's body. He could feel it radiating from him, especially where he touched him. His thumbs were touching his hand gently, drawing small circles of warmth on his touch-starved skin.

Again, Aziraphale could feel his heart beating faster.  
It seemed to stumble a few times.

When he thought about how they must be looking for other people right now he felt another wave of heat rushing to his face.

His thoughts wandered off, circling an idea that had come over him a long time ago. He had dismissed it again and again.  
Sometimes because it had not seemed right. Other times because it had not seemed to be the right moment. Often because it had frightened the angel too much to even think of it.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked, opening his eyes again to look at him.  
"Yeah?" He could see him waiting. Crowley tilted his head a bit to get a better look at Aziraphale. "What is it, angel?"

The angel gulped.

"Could we -"

He let go of the demon's hand and sat up. He felt an odd wave of fear in his heart. His hand felt strange and cold now that Crowley's fingers around were gone.

Aziraphale stood up and started oacing around in front of the bench while he tried to find the words he had been wanting to say.  
Crowley just kept watching him, a confused look on his face.

"I think I would like to try something," Aziraphale tried again. "You, er - you might not like it but I think that -"

He looked at him and saw Crowley standing up now as well. The demon brushed a few crumbs of bread from his palms, then he buried his hands in his pockets, looking at the angel.  
His brows were drawn together.

"Okay, what are you talking about, Aziraphale?" he asked. "You're being properly weird now, angel."

Aziraphale did not know what to say.

Instead, he took a step forward and cupped the demon's face with his hands. He pulled him down, standing on tiptoes to skip the last few inches.

Their lips brushed.

Aziraphale could feel the demon freezing as soon as their lips touched. His hands started fumbling in his pockets before he touched the angel's elbows with them.  
They were shaking ever so slightly.

Ashamed, Aziraphale took a step back, almost stumbling over his own feet.

"I'm so sorry, Crowley," he said, his voice shaking in horror as he realised what he had just done. "I - I should have asked, I - Blimey, I didn't think this through, I just -"

His string of poor excuses was interrupted by Crowley who pulled his glasses from his face and then grabbed the angel by his collar.

Aziraphale did not really have the time to feel frightened by that.  
Before he could even think of anything at all he felt the demon's lips on his own.

He closed his eyes, sinking slightly into Crowley's arms as the demon kissed him.

His hands found the angel's face and he cupped his cheeks. He tilted Aziraphale's head a bit, his thumbs pushing into his cheeks slightly.

Aziraphale felt a low sigh escape his lips and finally managed to wrap his arms around Crowley. He held on to him for he feared he might drown if he didn't.

There was only Crowley.  
Crowley, whose hands finally found Aziraphale's hair, pulling at it gently every now and then. Crowley, who was kissing him and whose lips tasted better than anything Aziraphale had ever tasted in his life.

It felt like they had been kissing forever.  
But then it was over again, much earlier than the angel wanted it to be.

Crowley parted from him and his cheeks turned red. Aziraphale watched the tip of his tongue as it licked the lips the angel had kissed just a few seconds ago.

They both blinked, each slightly embarrassed and unsure what to say.

"Did you like it?" Crowley asked. His voice sounded a bit rough. Aziraphale fell in love with that sound immediatly.  
"I - I think so," Aziraphale mumbled. He couldn't concentrate anymore, his head seemed to be filled with smoke. "Y-Yes, I think I did," he repeated, still not sounding too sure, though.

Crowley nodded, his hands started playing with the angel's hair. A small smiled settled on his lips.

Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember where they were and what they were doing. He looked around, pushing his glasses back on his face.  
He looked alarmed.

"We should go," he said quietly, letting go of the angel's hair again. "They could be looking for me. They mustn't see us like that. I - I wasn't thinking straight."

Aziraphale who had problems thinking straight himself wanted to ask who Crowley was talking about.  
But then he understood and he felt like an idiot. There was a cold sting of fear in his heart when he thought about the things they had done to Crowley.

He did not even want to imagine what kind of things they would do to him if they ever saw them like this.

"Let's go home," Aziraphale agreed.


	15. Let's Try

Aziraphale took the biggest of the three plants from Crowley as he seemed to struggle a bit with the weight of it. The demon had already taken the Da Vinci and the statue from the backseat and had brought them into the shop, his pen he had shoved into his coat pocket.  
He nodded and went ahead to hold the door open for Aziraphale while the angel carried the heavy plant inside.

Crowley watched him with something in his eyes that Aziraphale did not quite understand. He just gave him a small nod to thank him but did not meet his eyes.  
Aziraphale went by without a word.

He put the plant on the ground at the bottom of the staircase. The new easel and the bag full of supplies lay there as well as Aziraphale had brought them in earlier.

"Hey, er -" Crowley reached for Aziraphale's wirst, his warm fingers wrapped around it gently. He held him back for a second and stopped him from going back to the car to get the next plant. "Are we - Are we going to talk about what happened at the park?" he asked, hesitation in his voice.

They had not talked since they had left the park together.

Aziraphale hesitated before finally raising his head to look at the demon.

"We kissed," he said, resignated. He tried to suppress the panic that had been rising within him since he had touched the demon's lips with his own. Maybe it had been there even longer, Aziraphale did not know. "I just wanted to try something," he continued because he couldn't stand the look on Crowley's face and because he felt the urge to say something. Anything. "I just - What's there to talk about, Crowley?"  
"Are you kidding me, angel? I think there's plenty to talk about," the demon said and he grabbed his wrist a bit firmer.

When he noticed Aziraphale backing away he let go of it immediatly, an apologetic look on his face. His hand fell to his side where it started fidgeting with his skirt.  
He looked hurt.

"There's plenty to talk about," Crowley repeated, his voice weak, defeated, helpless. "I mean," he shook his head, "don't you have questions? Like, are we going to do it again or are we just going to pretend it didn't happen at all? Didn't you say you liked it?"

Aziraphale didn't know what to say.  
He didn't know the answers to those questions.

"I - I did like it," he admitted after a while, still not looking at the demon. "I did, Crowley," he continued and he felt a sudden pain in his chest. "But - I'm not sure if this is a good idea. I don't think we should be doing this."  
"What's not a good idea?" Crowley asked. "What do you mean? What shouldn't we be doing?"  
"Us," Aziraphale said.

He finally looked at the demon.  
He hoped he would understand, that he would see on his face how sorry he was.

"Maybe we're not a good idea, Crowley," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I don't think that we should be kissing each other. Maybe -" He couldn't stand the pain in the demon's eyes but he tried to finish what he had started. "We're - I am an angel, Crowley. And you're a demon. We shouldn't - We can't - What they did to you -"

He sighed and buried his face in his hands.  
He felt tears stinging in his eyes.

"Does it matter?" Crowley asked. His voice sounded so soft that Aziraphale felt a shiver running down his spine. "Does it really matter to you who we are, angel?"

He took a long step towards the angel. But he moved slowly, giving Aziraphale the time to back away if he didn't want him in his space.  
Aziraphale did not move. He just looked at Crowley with tears in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter to me," Crowley said, shrugging slightly. "But tell me, and please -" He looked like he wanted to reach out his hand but he let it drop again and sighed. "Please be honest with me, Aziraphale," he said. "Does it matter to you?"

Before Aziraphale could reply, before he had even thought of an answer, he heard Crowley sigh.

"Because if it does I swear that I -" He was looking for words. "I'll let it be, angel. I'll leave you alone if you want me to. I promise I'll just go and -"

He fell silent as Aziraphale pressed his palm to his mouth, shutting it.  
He needed him to stop talking, he couldn't think.

Aziraphale knew it was wrong. Everything they had going on between them was wrong. And it was a dangerous thing, especially for Crowley. Aziraphale knew it was probably best to leave him alone now before it was too late. They shouldn't even be with each other.  
But there was this part of him that knew that it was too late, already. That they had missed their chance and had become whatever they were now. And they couldn't back out now.

"This is new," Aziraphale mumbled after a long time and he looked at Crowley, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. "It's different. And I don't know if I want things to be different."

In Crowley's eyes he could see pain and he could see his fear of being abandoned. But there was hope in them, too, and the intensity of it made Aziraphale's heart miss a beat.

"This is scaring me, Crowley," he whispered with a shaky voice, "for a thousand different reasons."

Crowley touched his wrist. He pulled Aziraphale's hand from his lips, then he let go of it again.  
Aziraphale was glad he didn't touch him any longer than necessary. But at the same time he also wanted to sink into the demon's arms and hug him close until everything was fine again.

"I'll give you time," Crowley said with a small nod. "I will give you all the time you want. You can think these things through."

Aziraphale's eyes got stuck to the demon's. Crowley was looking at him with such intensity that it felt impossible to part from him.  
It felt like being trapped.

"Do you want me to go now?" Crowley asked gently, waking the angel from his thoughts. "Please, just tell me what to do, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale gulped. There were more tears that ran down his face and he could see Crowley's fingers twitch.  
He probably wanted to wipe them away. But he did not dare.

"Stay," Aziraphale heard himself say. His tongue had almost stumbled over the word, his voice shook ever so slightly. "Please don't go, Crowley."

The demon nodded. A lot of tension seemed to fall from his shoulders as he did so and he took a shaky breath. Then he just nodded again.

"I'll stay," he whispered.

He reached out, touching the angel's hand gently.  
Aziraphale let him.

"You look awful right now," Crowley said. "Do you - Can I hug you, angel?" he asked and Aziraphale nodded slowly.

Crowley pulled him into his arms. Aziraphale closed his eyes as he breathed his smell and felt his warmth and the trembling in his own body he hadn't even noticed before. 

Everything was new. But this was still Crowley.  
The same Crowley he had known for six thousand years. The same Crowley that had always been at his side, no matter what.  
It was the same Crowley that had chosen him when he had not known where else to go. Who felt as safe with the angel as Aziraphale felt with him.

He buried his face under his chin and finally hugged him back. A quiet sob left his mouth.

"It's okay, angel," Crowley whispered, stroking his hair gently.

Aziraphale who did not know what to say just nodded.  
He hugged the demon closer and noticed that the feeling of his presence calmed him down again. He helped him bring order to the chaos in his head and to bring a feeling of hope to his desperate heart.

"It feels wrong," Anziraphale mumbled against his chest. "Why does it feel so wrong?" he asked. "How can something that felt so good feel so wrong? Why is it scaring me so much?"  
"Because this is new," Crowley said and his warm fingertips left Aziraphale's hair and started stroking his back instead. "Because this is everything that Heaven wouldn't want you to do."

The words struck him like lightning.

He had tried not to think about Heaven and Hell anymore. He had fought the thought, especially after they had left the park. But he knew he couldn't run from it forever.  
It made him sick.

The thought of Heaven and Hell made Aziraphale want to push Crowley away again. He knew they would never understand what they had with each other, lest accept their relationship. He knew they would never be safe as long as they kept seeing each other.  
But it also made Aziraphale want to cling to Crowley even tighter. Because he knew they wouldn't be safe anyway. And he wanted to be there if anything ever happened again. He wanted to make sure Crowley was safe.

"I can't lose you, Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, parting from him. He saw the hurt look on his face and felt a similar pain in his heart. "I can't let them take you again. This time they would destroy you."

Hot tears started rushing down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away but it wouldn't help.  
He sniffled and looked at Crowley again.

"I don't want to lose you, either," the demon said and his hands reached for Aziraphale's cheeks, both of his thumbs wiping away tear after tear.

Aziraphale hesitated.

"I am so scared for you, Crowley," he admitted and he reached for the demon's upper arms for support.  
"Me too," Crowley nodded. "But for both of us."

He gave him a smile.  
It was tiny and sad but it was an honest smile.

"We'll be fine, angel," he said, pulling Aziraphale into his arms once more. He buried his nose in his hair. "We can look out for each other. We'll be fine."

They held each other.  
It was a silent promise that their words were true. That they would be fine. That they would look out for each other.

"Can you kiss me again?" Aziraphale asked, not knowing where that sudden urge had even come from.  
He blushed slightly when he noticed what he had just said.

Crowley couldn't hide his surprise, either, but he recovered quickly and just nodded.  
There was a soft look on his face when he cupped the angel's face with his hands.

He leaned down and tilted his head a bit. Then he placed a gentle kiss on the angel's lips, much softer than the one in the park.  
It almost felt like the flap of a butterfly's wings.

"That was - That was good," Aziraphale mumbled when Crowley lifted his head again. He noticed a little smile on his face and couldn't help but smile as well.  
"Did it feel wrong?" Crowley asked and he seemed to be searching the angel's eyes for some kind of hint that he should let go of him.

Aziraphale grabbed his hands and held them into place.

"Well, a bit," he admitted, shaking his head before Crowley could say anything. "But not as wrong as it did before," he said.

He could see him thinking about his words.

"Maybe it'll get better," Crowley said after a moment of silence. "Maybe it'll feel less wrong the more we do these things."  
"These things?" Aziraphale asked.

He was sure he knew what kind of things Crowley meant by that. But he wanted to hear it from his mouth. He wanted to hear him say it.

"Kissing." Crowley raised a brow and tried a small smile. "Among other things."  
"Yes, maybe," Aziraphale nodded.

His eyes had got stuck to the demon's lips again.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Crowley asked and Aziraphale could hear the longing in his gentle voice. He could feel the same longing in his own belly.

He raised his head and looked at him. Then he just nodded.

Crowley returned the nod and leaned down for a second time. He hesitated, though, his lips scarcely brushing the angel's lips.  
Aziraphale grabbed his collar and pulled him down until he could reach his lips. They kissed again.

"And?" Crowley asked, his breath shaking a bit from the kiss. Aziraphale shrugged.  
"Still feels a bit wrong," he said. "But I think it'll just be like that for a while, won't it?"

Crowley shrugged as well.

"Can we try?" he asked, stroking the angel's cheek gently. "Just let us see where this is going, angel. No expectations, no pressure, no regrets. Just us. Like it's always been."

Aziraphale closed his eyes.

"Like dating?" he asked, looking up at the demon again.  
"Yeah." A soft chuckle escaped Crowley's mouth when he nodded. "I'm surprised you even know that term. But - Yeah. I guess it would technically be like dating."

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment.  
Then he nodded.

It felt like the movement had cost him every ounce of energy that he had left. But when he saw the way Crowley's face lit up, the way he looked at him, it all seemed worth it again.

"I think that means we're - we're dating now," the angel said with a small chuckle, trying how the words felt in his mouth.  
They felt a bit silly, he had to admit. But they also made him feel curious. A bit excited even. It felt good.

Crowley smiled and let go of his cheeks. Instead, he reached for his hand and held it close to his chest, pulling Aziraphale from his thoughts.

"Thank you, angel," he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

Aziraphale gave him a smile and grabbed Crowley's hand. He interlocked their fingers.

They went back to the car together.  
Crowley got one of the two remaining plants from the backseat and handed it to Aziraphale. Then he got the second one and locked the car.

They brought them into the shop and each plant got a place in front of one of the big windows.

"Now, would you be so kind to take those upstairs, please?" Aziraphale asked, pointing at the easel, the bag, the Da Vinci and the statue of the two fighting angels. "In the meantime I'll prepare dinner. What do you think, dear?"

Crowley opened his mouth but then closed it again without saying anything.  
Aziraphale had not talked to him since they had left the park and therefore he had not called him by his nickname, either. He knew Crowley and he was sure that the demon had probably convinced himself that he was angry with him and he would not call him by his nickname again.

Aziraphale felt sorry.

He reached for Crowley's elbow and held him back before he went upstairs.  
Aziraphale pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and started smiling when he saw him blush at the touch.

"Stop it, angel," Crowley grumbled, shooting a quick glance at the plants. "You're embarrassing me in front of the plants."  
"Not my fault if you get so easily embarrassed," the angel smiled.


	16. Crêpes And Cuddles

Aziraphale watched Crowley go as he went upstairs. Then, when he had vanished from his sight, the angel nodded to himself and headed to the kitchen, a bag of groceries in his arms that had been waiting on floor along with Crowley's belongings.

On their way home Ahziraphale had asked Crowley to stop at a grocery store. He had wanted to be alone then, he had wanted some time to think about the things that had happened. And so he had gone alone and he had left Crowley in the car, telling him to wait.  
In the grocery story he had not felt any better, though, and so he had decided to make crêpes for dinner as he always made them when he felt bad.

He had not thought about asking Crowley whether he would even like that. And the demon had not asked what Aziraphale had bought when he had returned to the car.  
They had spent the way back home in utter silence.

Aziraphale felt tired. And he felt incredibly sorry for how he had treated Crowley on their way home.  
But he was still feeling that overwhelming need to be near the demon, mixed with fear of going too fast.

He didn't even know which way they were headed anymore as things had become so new between them.  
There was too much that had changed too fast.

And it scared him.

Aziraphale sighed gently and shook his head, trying not to think about these things now.  
Instead, he started working on the ingredients for the crêpes.

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt in order to keep them clean while he worked in the kitchen. Then he mixed some flour, sugar, milk and eggs together.

He knew he could just use a few miracles, it would save a lot of time. And the crêpes would probably turn out even better that way. ä  
But in those five years of Crowley's absence Aziraphale had learned that cooking and baking helped him calm down. He had learned that it could take a lot pressure off his shoulders as he could think about a lot of things while he worked in the kitchen without having to worry about drowning in his thoughts as he still needed to pay attention to what he was doing.

And he really needed that right now.

"Hey, can I help you with that?" Crowley, who had entered the kitchen silently, asked.

Aziraphale jumped a bit and turned around, one hand pressed to his chest. He sighed and shook his head at Crowley who was leaning against the door frame, watching him carefully.

"Not really, no," he mumbled. "I'm nearly done here, see." He pointed at the small stack of crêpes that were ready to be served. "Oh, er, but you can go and put these on the table."

He handed Crowley two plates and some cutlery. When he felt their hands brushing against each other Aziraphale looked up at the demon and he knew he was probably blushing. 

Crowley didn't say anything, though. He just nodded and took the plates and brought them into the living-room. Aziraphale could hear the cutlery clink gently when the demon put it on the old wooden table.

"Maybe we should get a new one," Aziraphale said just when Crowley returned. "A table, I mean." He put a hand to his hip while he thought about it and with the other he pointed the cooking spatuala at Crowley. "We need a bigger one so we can eat properly when we're together. And a few chairs, while we're at it, so we don't have to use the sofa and the old armchair anymore for meals."  
"Are you sure there's enough space for all that?" Crowley asked.

He started scratching his chin and his brows were drawn together. Both were signs that he was doubting that.

Aziraphale thought about it for a moment.

"Well, I could use a small miracle or two to make the room a bit bigger," he suggested but when he saw Crowley's face he felt very stupid for having said that.

Miracles were still a rather sensitive topic for the demon.  
He shouldn't have suggested using one so carelessly.

"Or I could try and plan the whole thing," Crowley mumbled after a small pause. He shifted slightly and brushed a bit of hair from his face. "To make sure everything will fit, you know. The table, the chairs, the sofa and the armchair."  
"Like a designer?" Aziraphale asked. "Er, some - some sort of architect?"

Crowley shrugged.  
Aziraphale gave it some thought.

"Yes, sure." He nodded. "Yes, why not. You're so much better at these things than I am anyway," he added with a smile before he turned back to the stove and turned it off.

He handed Crowley the plate of crêpes.

"But for tonight the old table will have to do, won't it?" he smiled.

Crowley hesitated, then he returned the smile and nodded.

Aziraphale poured each of them a cup of tea and after grabbing a tube of chocolate that he had bought for the crêpes, he followed the demon into the living-room.

"No, let me help you," Crowley said, taking the tube away from under Aziraphale's arm while the angel tried not to spill the tea he was carrying in his hands.

They sat down together and started eating in silence.  
They stayed silent for a while before Aziraphale started talking about the art shop he had visited earlier while Crowley had been looking for plants.

Suddenly, it all felt normal again. Like nothing had happened between them. Like this was just one of those conversations they used to have.

Aziraphale told Crowley about the many different easels he had seen. He told him how he had had absolutely no idea where to start and how the young employee had taken pity with him and had helped him out.  
The demon laughed when Aziraphale told him how lost he had felt without the employee's help.

It was his real, sudden laugh. The one he didn't show very often around people.  
Aziraphale loved the sound of it. It kind of reminded him of the sound ducks made when they were bickering with each other.

And that thought reminded him of the book that he had bought for Crowley. He excused himself and got up from the table to go looking for it before he could forget it again.  
It was still in one of the inner pockets of his coat.

"Look, I bought this for you," Aziraphale said when he came back.  
He gave the book to Crowley who wiped a bit of grease from his fingers before he took it from him.

He thumbed through the book carefully and the small smile on his face grew wider and wider with each page.

"Well, I mean - This is awesome," he said. He looked at the angel who had turned to his crêpes again. They gave each other a smile. "I like it. Thank you, angel."

Crowley stood up. He went over to the bookshelf with Aziraphale's favourites, all his Wilde first editions and some old or lost Shakespeare plays that he had seen with Crowley many years ago. The demon hesitated for a moment but then he put his book on the shelf, next to a collection of poems by Oscar Wilde.  
When he turned around Aziraphale gave him a smile and a nod, showing him he approved.

Normally, he wouldn't have liked anyone even coming near that shelf. He felt quite strong about his favourites being touched by anyone else than himself.  
But he noticed that he didn't really mind Crowley doing it.

"So, what are we going to do next?" Crowley asked when they had long finished their crêpes.  
They had been sitting in silence for a while, drinking a second cup of tea now.

The demon leaned back, sinking into the sofa's soft cushions, and crossed his arms behind his head. The movement made the shirt he was wearing slip from the waistband of his skirt, exposing a bit of pale skin as it moved up his belly. Aziraphale noticed the fine line of hair beneath his belly button and felt a sudden heat in his cheeks.  
He cleared his throat and looked away.

"I, er - Sorry, what was that?" he asked, blinking a few times and trying to concentrate.  
"I asked what we're gonna do now. We're finished here, I guess," Crowley said and he glanced at the old clock on the wall. "It's not even 7 yet."  
"Er. I don't know." Aziraphale shrugged. "Is there - Well, Is there something you would like to do?"

Crowley took a deep breath and stretched his arms a bit while he thought about it.  
Aziraphale couldn't help but notice the soft skin of his belly again. He tried to look away.

"Mhm, we could go to bed early," Crowley suggested with a cheeky grin. "I think I'd like some cuddles," he continued. "You know, like last night. I think I enjoyed that."  
"Doesn't sound too demonic, does it?" Aziraphale said. He shrugged and nodded.

"Alright, then," Aziraphale agreed. He stood up and started collecting the dishes. "Just let me clean these, yes?" He pointed at the dishes. "You can go, I'm going to be with you in a second."

He took their empty plates and mugs and Crowley helped him with the cutlery before he went upstairs. With a few miracles Aziraphale was done with the dishes and he put everything back to the place where he had taken it from.  
Then he followed Crowley upstairs where he found the demon lying on the bed.

He was wearing his silky black pyjamas and also Aziraphale's whoolen socks again. His long, thin limbs seemed to be everywhere, they were completely splayed out on the bed.  
He looked like he was lost in thought.

Aziraphale noticed the easel on the demon's side of the bed. There was a blank white canvas, ready to be used, and on the drawer next to the easel Crowley had put his supplies. Brushes, oil paints, water glass and mixing palette were lying on the wooden surface.  
The statue of the fighting angels was standing on the nightstand now and his Da Vinci sketch was hanging from the wall behind it.

Aziraphale gave Crowley a smile when he looked up as he noticed the angel in the room.

"I think I'll change into something that's more -" He hesitated. "Well, something that's more suited for sleeping, I guess."

He went over to his wardrobe and found an old pair pf pyjamas hidden away in it. They were coloured light blue and looked uglier than anything Aziraphale had ever seen. When he saw the matching pointy hat he just pushed it back into the wardrobe, praying that Crowley had not noticed any of that.  
He had never worn these pyjamas. He couldn't even remember why he had bought them in the first place.

It would have to do for now.

Aziraphale retreated to the bathroom where he took a quick shower before he changed into the old pyjamas.  
He still wasn't sure about them. He plucked at the soft material a few times before shaking his head. 

When had he become so keen on impressing Crowley?  
And with his nightgown? Was it really that important to him what the demon would think of it?

Actually, yes.

Before Aziraphale finally returned to the bedroom he used a few miracles on his pyjamas, trying to make them look less old and less ugly. In the end he didn't really know whether he had succeeded with that but he decided that it wouldn't matter that much if he was being honest.

He returned to the bedroom and saw that Crowley had shifted slightly, one leg dangling from Aziraphale's side of the bed now. He was looking up at the ceiling.

When he heard Aziraphale, though, Crowley lifted his head and rolled onto his side. Propped on his elbow, he looked at the angel for a moment.

"Well, you look -" Crowley gave him a cheeky little grin. "Really soft," he endet his statement.  
He rolled over to his side of the bed and patted the mattress on the other side gently, motioning Aziraphale to come to bed with him.

Aziraphale hesitated.  
He still felt that strange feeling in his gut. That feeling of wanting to be near Crowley but also not wanting to get too close to him. He was afraid of losing him, afraid of what would happen if he allowed himself to feel this way for the demon.

"Angel?"

Aziraphale blinked, realising he still hadn't moved at all.  
He just cleared his throat and took a breath, then he stepped towards the bed.

He climbed into the bed and edged a bit closer to Crowley, his heart beating faster. Aziraphale wasn't sure whether it was because of his anxiety or because he was getting so excited about being so close to Crowley again.

It didn't matter.

As soon as Aziraphale had edged closer to him the demon had wrapped his arms around his body and hugged him close. When Aziraphale didn't object he also wrapped his legs around him until there was no space left between them.  
Crowley chuckled and nuzzled his face into the angel's neck.

"Er, is that alright?" he asked, lifting his head a bit so he could look at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale closed his eyes and sighed softly before pulling Crowley even closer to show him that it was alright.  
He felt the anxiety flow away again, he felt a warm shiver in his belly that made him sigh once more.

"My dear boy, what are you doing?" Aziraphale chuckled when Crowley started kissing the side of his neck. He felt another shiver rolling down his spine.  
"It's called showing affection, angel," Crowley mumbled before he pressed another kiss to the sensitive skin of Aziraphale's chin.

Aziraphale shivered again and even flinched a bit as the demon had brushed a ticklish spot with his touch.  
Crowley lifted his head.

"Oh, you're ticklish." He started grinning.  
"Crowley," he said. Aziraphale shook his head but it was too late, the demon had started tickling him. "No, please - ah! Crow-"

Aziraphale laughed, trying to fight Crowley without hurting him.  
He was stronger than the demon and Crowley seemed to forget about that sometimes.

"Crowley, please stop!" he cried, still laughing and writhing beneath the demon's body. He gasped for air. "Please, I - I'm begging you!"

Crowley let go of him and lay down on the angel's body. He put his chin on his arms that were crossed across Aziraphale's chest. He watched him with a sparkle in his eyes that Aziraphale had missed so much during his absense.

"Please don't do that, my dear," the angel sighed with a tired smile.  
"Huh, I think it was fun," Crowley said. He grinned back at him.  
"Fun?" Aziraphale shook his head but then he had an idea and with an evil little smile he chuckled. "Well, tell me, then - Does this feel like fun to you?"

He heard the demon gasp in surprise as he rolled over and buried him under his body, pinning him to the mattress.

Aziraphale laughed and buried his face under his chin, tickling him as well. Crowley started laughing and he sounded so happy it send a big warm wave through Aziraphale's body.  
He wanted this moment to never end. He wanted to stay like this forever, feeling Crowley close to him, hearing him laugh, smelling his soap on his skin.

"No, please don't," Crowley laughed.  
He tried to grab Aziraphale by his shoulders but the angel just shook his head at that and cought him by his wrists, pressing them into the mattress.

Crowley froze.  
His laughter stopped.

"Aziraphale," he choked. "Stop. Please, stop."

Aziraphale let go of him immediatly.  
He edged away from him, giving him some space.

"I - Oh, I am so sorry, Crowley," he whispered when he started realising what had just happened.

He wanted to touch him, to show him that he hadn't meant to hurt him in any way.  
But he didn't dare coming any closer.

"I didn't think this through," he continued. His voice was shaking now slightly. "I am so sorry, Crowley."

Crowley just shook his head and crawled towards him. He sank into the angel's arms and hugged him close, still shaking his head.

"No, it's fine," he mumbled. The tip of his nose was pressing into Aziraphale's collar bone. "It's fine, I know you wouldn't hurt me. I just got a bit overwhelmed. It's fine now, I'm fine."

Aziraphale didn't know what to say or what to do. He decided to believe Crowley and so he hugged him back, still trying not to pull him too close, though.

"It's just -" Crowley drew back again and Aziraphale let go of him.  
But the demon grabbed the angel's hands and put his wrists into them, using that small gesture to show him how much he trusted him. Both of their hands were shaking slightly.  
"This is where they tied my hands, you know," he said, looking at Aziraphale. "I know you wouldn't hurt me, angel. I know it was just a game. It wasn't serious." He sighed. "It's okay now, I promise. I'm fine. I trust you, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale touched the inside of his wrists with his thumbs. He let them brush over his soft pale skin, feeling some of the veins beneath.  
Then he leaned forward and put a kiss on each wrist.

Crowley just watched him.  
There were tears in his eyes.

"Can I - Can I kiss you?" he asked when Aziraphale returned his gaze. "Properly I mean?"

Aziraphale nodded and cupped his face with his hands.  
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, Crowley sighed softly.

"I guess you don't have to ask anymore," Aziraphale said, touching Crowley's nose with his own. "Now that we are - well, now that we are dating."

Crowley closed his eyes.

"Yes, but I'm afraid of scaring you away, angel," he mumbled. "I know I am going too fast sometimes. I don't want to lose you ever again."

Aziraphale looked at him.  
He brushed a bit of hair from his face and sighed.

"Today I wasn't quite fair to you, Crowley," he said. "I am sorry for that. I was - I was scared, you see." He ducked his head. "I think I wanted things to go back to what they were before I - well, before I kissed you. But that's changed, I think." He sighed again, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want to go back anymore," he continued. "I don't want to lose this because -" He tried a small smile. "I think I like this, Crowley. And I - I do like the kissing," he added, a bit embarrassed to admit that to him.  
"Good. Me too, angel," Crowley said, pulling Aziraphale into another kiss.


	17. A Kind of Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for not posting updates. i couldn't log in for a while and when i finally managed to do that i couldn't add any chapters...

When Aziraphale woke up the first thing he noticed was that Crowley was still asleep, lying in his arms, snoring softly into his chest.  
His cheek was resting there on Aziraphale's chest and his dark long curls hid parts of his sleeping face. With a smile Aziraphale noticed Crowley's hand that must have found its way under his shirt while they had been asleep. He felt his warm palm against his belly and he fell in love with the sensation of it immediatly.

Aziraphale shifted slightly under the demon's weight and nuzzled a bit closer to his body. He couldn't move all that much, though. One of Crowley's long legs that he had wrapped around the angel's waist was holding him in place.

It had not taken them very long before they had fallen asleep last night.  
They had cuddled for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other. Crowley had clung to Aziraphale until the two of them had formed a big ball of bodies and limbs, neither of them willing to let go of the other. In the end, that's how they had fallen asleep.

Aziraphale could still remember the lazy kisses that Crowley had pressed to his neck and chin shortly before sleep had finally claimed him.

Just once the angel had been woken up during the night. He had felt Crowley moving in his arms, had felt him shiver and had heard the choked breaths that had come from his mouth.  
Aziraphale had hugged the demon close to his chest and had woken him from his dream, whispering soft words to him until he had finally woken up. He had waited patiently for Crowley to calm down again and the demon had nodded sleepily, hiding his face away at his chest.  
He had fought back tears, clinging to Aziraphale.

Then, after a while, both of them had fallen asleep again, Crowley first.  
It was okay. It seemed to be getting better. Crowley seemed to be doing better.

Aziraphale smiled when he noticed that because of Crowley he had got much more sleep during the last few days than during the last century.  
He felt a chuckle rising in his throat when he thought about himself argueing that sleep simply wasn't for him and did his best to stifle it. He didn't want to wake Crowley.

Instead, Aziraphale watched him sleep fora bit. After some time the angel reached out and he brushed some hair from Crowley's face, trying to be as gentle as possible so he wouldn't wake the demon. He could see Crowley's parted lips and the thick, long eye lashes then that had been covered by loose strands of his dark hair. His lashes cast tiny shadows on the demon's cheeks where dozens of small freckles covered his skin.  
Aziraphale thought they looked adorable. He knew he'd never tell Crowley, though.

Time went by and Aziraphale looked at the ceiling, before he closed his eyes for a bit, waiting for Crowley to wake up as well.

After a while the demon started stirring in his arms. His warm palm that had been resting on the angel's belly slid upwards and was now resting on Aziraphale's chest.  
Crowley mumbled a few words and nuzzled his cheek closer against Aziraphale's shoulder while his hair tickled the angel's face.

"A duck, angel," he whispered a few seconds before he opened his eyes.  
He blinked at Aziraphale sleepily.

The angel smiled at him.

"Good morning, my dear," he mumbled, half of his face buried in the demon's soft hair.  
"Mm. Morning, angel," Crowley said and he hugged Aziraphale closer, pushing his leg upwards until his knee gently bumped into Aziraphale's crotch.

The demon sighed, sounding most comfortable. Content.

"I think I dreamed of ducks again," he mumbled and a soft chuckle escaped his mouth.

He didn't seem to notice that his fingers had started stroking the angel's chest under his shirt, drawing a pattern of small circles and lines and dots on his skin.  
Aziraphale shivered slightly.

"Yes, I heard," Aziraphale nodded. He smiled when Crowley raised his head to look at him, a look of confusion on his face. "You talk," he explained. "In your sleep."  
"Oh." Crowley scratched his nose with the hand that wasn't resting on Aziraphale's chest. "Didn't know that." He nodded slowly. "Sorry, is it annoying or -"  
"No," Aziraphale said immediatly, shaking his head. "No, there's no need to apologise. And it's not annoying, dear. Actually, I find it rather cu-" He stopped himself before he could finish the word and when he noticed the way Crowley was looking at him he tried to think of something else. "I mean - I like it," he said but it didn't feel right. "No. You know what? I'm going to say it, Crowley." He shook his head. "It's cute. Even if you don't want to hear it, it's cute. You're cute, Crowley."

Crowley just made a soft growling noise but effect he tried to have on the angel got lost completely when he nuzzled his nose into his shirt.  
Aziraphale just smiled and lifted his hand to start stroking the demon's hair. A humming sound came from Crowley as he closed his eyes and started smiling as well.

They just lay there for some time, enjoying each other's presence in silence.  
After a while, though, Aziraphale decided that it was time to get up.

"Angel, no. No, stay," Crowley whined when the angel tried to sit up.  
"Crowley, I'm not going to spend the whole morning in bed again," Aziraphale said firmly.

For a moment he fought with the demon, trying to wriggle out of his arms. Finally, Crowley gave up and let him go. He sniffled sulikly and pulled his hand away from Aziraphale's chest.  
His skin felt strange and cold without the demon's hand.

Pouting, Crowley crossed his arms across his chest which made the angel chuckle softly.  
He leaned down and touched Crowley's chin with the tip of his thumb and forefinger. The demon sticked out his tongue.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Aziraphale laughed. He leaned down further and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of the demon's mouth. He could feel a small smile growing on his lips which made him chuckle again. "And now get out of bed, my dear," he said before leaning back so Crowley couldn't reach his lips and kiss him properly.

Crowley sighed dramatically and threw himself back, sinking into the sheets. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and looked at the angel through half closed lids.

"But I don't want to, angel," he whined.

Aziraphale ignored him which made Crowley sigh again, more deeply this time. He yawned and started streching, moving his body and limbs in impossible ways and messing up the sheets while he did so.  
The rim of his shirt slid up to his chest and on Crowley's belly Aziraphale could see the fine line of hair again that he had noticed earlier last night. In the soft sunlight he could also see the hundrets of freckles on his belly and chest that Aziraphale must somehow have missed when he had bathed and dressed the demon a few days ago.

He tried not to blush too hard.

"Stay in bed, then," he said as the demon took his time, obviously enjoying that Aziraphale was still waiting for him. "I'll take a nice bath now, just in case you're wondering," Aziraphale continued, stepping thtough the bedroom door.

His and Crowley's eyes met for a second.  
The demon sat up immediatly and tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at the angel. Aziraphale blushed.

"Was that an invitation?" he asked and Aziraphale blushed even harder.

He didn't know what to say and so he fled the room, leaving Crowley behind.

There were steps close behind him that followed him into the bathroom next door.  
Crowley cleared his throat and looked at him.

"No, seriously, angel," he said. "Was it an invitation? Because -" He lifted a hand and touched his neck gingerly. He looked a bit embarrassed himself, blushing slightly while he stood there, looking at Aziraphale. "Because, I, er, I think I'd like to cuddle a bit more." He froze and met the angel's gaze. "But - But I don't want to get into your space or something. I get that this is new and - No, I probably shouldn't even have asked."  
"No," Aziraphale mumbled and the demon stopped talking. He just looked at him. "I don't think it was an ivitation. But we could make it one," he added quickly. "An invitation, I mean."

He felt a sheepish smile on his lips.  
Crowley's face lit up.

"Are you sure? This is not - I don't know - too fast?" he asked before stepping closer, his hands buried in his pockets. "I told you, I'm afraid of scaring you away, Aziraphale. This thing between us," he hesitated, "it feels fragile. I don't want to break it."  
"You're not breaking anything, Crowley," Aziraphale said and he sighed and took a step towards the demon, pulling him close to his chest. "I just - I guess I didn't expect myself to say that."

He pulled back again and saw Crowley giving him a gentle nod. Aziraphale sighed and nodded as well before he turned towards the bath tub, filling it with warm water while Crowley handed him the soap.

"So you're fine with me being here, yeah?" the demon asked again after a moment of silence. He was watching Aziraphale's reaction and the angel could see the anxiety in his eyes.  
"Yes." He nodded.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes." He grabbed his hand and gave him a smile. "I am sure, Crowley."

Crowley just nodded again.  
He sighed and started stripping off the clothes he was wearing. Aziraphale did not dare look at his body. It suddenly felt too intimate to do so.

"What's wrong?" Crowley asked self-counciously. He froze, his hands buried in his hair that he was trying to comb back with his fingers.  
"N-nothing," Aziraphale lied.

Crowley tilted his head.  
He quickly put his hair into a messy bun and stepped closer before he knelt down so he could look at the angel's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, lifting his chin gently. "Should I leave?"  
"No." Aziraphale shook his head. "I'm just - I'm not used to this," he said.  
"Not used to what, exactly?"  
"Showing myself, I think?" Aziraphale suggested. "I - You don't seem to care about - about what people think about your body or - You just - I'm not used to showing mine. To being treated like you are treating me." He ducked his head and looked at the floor. "This is new."

Crowley didn't say anything for a while.  
Then he lifted the angel's head again by touching his chin. He tilted his own head and looked at him.

"What's wrong with your body?" he asked. He looked slightly confused. Like he couldn't understand why Aziraphale had said what he'd said.  
"I'm not -" The angel hesitated. "I know I'm not - not really what people would consider beautiful. I think, I'm too - Well, obviously I'm -"

Crowley cupped his face as he struggled to say what he was trying to say.

"But you are beautiful, angel," he said. "You're pretty damn beautiful."  
"Language, dear," Aziraphale whispered, trying to change the subject. He'd never felt very comfortable receiving compliments but he did like the way Crowley's compliment felt, deep in his chest.

It was confusing.

"You know what?" Crowley mumbled. "I'd really love to go and kick Gabriel's ass right now." When he noticed the quizzical look that Aziraphale was giving him he just raised a cocky eyebrow at him. "Well, it's him who made you feel self-concious," he said. "You told me, remember?"  
"But he did something much worse to you, Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. He shook his head. "I think it should be me, kicking his ass."  
"Language, angel," Crowley smiled.

The smile turned into an evil little grin but Aziraphale could see through his mask. He could see the pain in his eyes.  
The pain that Gabriel's name was still doing to him. To both of them.

Aziraphale wondered whether it would ever go away again. Whether they would be able to talk about Hell or Heaven again without hurting each other.  
He didn't know. They'd have to wait and see.

"Let's get in before we get cold," Crowley said with a small nod towards the water in the tub. Aziraphale blinked and noticed the little ghoose bumps on his pale skin.

He suddenly remembered the panic attack the cold had led him to the last time. He didn't want any of that to happen to Crowley again.  
And so he ignored the anxiety he felt and stripped off his clothes as well.

He wouldn't meet Crowley's eyes, though, not even when Crowley took his hand.

They climbed into the tub together, Crowley first, Aziraphale second.  
Only when the water was covering most of his body the angel dared to lift his head.

Crowley was watching his face closely.  
He sighed.

"You still don't like me being here, do you?" he asked the angel but he didn't sound disappointed. Just a bit worried. He'd said it like a matter of fact.  
"That's not - You make it sound like -" Aziraphale sighed and lowered his head. "I - I usually don't even care what most people think," he said, looking at him again. "But I care what you think of me, Crowley, I - Do you remember what you told me yesterday? I, too, need you to like me back so badly."

Crowley looked at him. After a moment he finally nodded and Aziraphale knew that he understood now.

"I like you, angel," he promised, squeezing his hand gently. "And I really don't care what you look like. Even though," he started grinning and gazed at Aziraphale for a moment that felt much longer than it actually was, "I really like what you're looking like right now."

Aziraphale felt a sudden heat in his cheeks but this time he didn't duck his head. He didn't look away.  
He kept looking at the demon who was smiling at him.

"Now I'm being the dramatic one," he mumbled. A sheepish chuckle escaped his mouth.  
"Yeah, stop it, angel," Crowley grinned, "that's my job."

He winked at him and leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head.  
Aziraphale followed him. He felt the impulse to lean against Crowley and without thinking about it, he did it, sinking against his chest.

The sensation of Crowley's skin beneath his own made his heart beat a bit faster.

"I guess, I'm also being the clingy one right now," he mumbled into his chest. He felt utterly grateful when Crowley finally lifted his arms and wrapped them around him, pulling him closer, snuggling his nose into his hair.  
"Well, I don't mind," he said with a smile. He closed his eyes.

"Can I wash your hair?" Crowley asked after a while and Aziraphale lifted his head a bit to look at him sleepily. He'd been awfully close to drifting away. "I think I'd like to return the favor," Crowley explained.  
"Alright." Aziraphale yawned, nodding. "Yes, why not."

He sat up, even though he would have loved to stay in Crowley's arms for a little bit longer. Then he waited while Crowley tried to reach for the shampoo that stood on the sink cabinet close to the bath tub.  
He shivered slightly when he leaned back and touched his shoulders gently to turn him into the right position until Crowley was behind him and the angel was sitting between his knees.

"Okay," Crowley mumbled to himself before splurting a bit of the shampoo into his palm.

He rubbed it into the angel's hair, massaging his scalp gently with his long fingers. With a soft sigh Aziraphale closed his tired eyes and sank into the demon's touch.

"D'you like that?" Crowley asked and Aziraphale could hear the soft chuckle in his voice. He just nodded as his body felt perfectly numb and warm and heavy under his touch. He didn't feel able to form any words right now.

He didn't want Crowley to stop.  
He wanted this moment to last forever.

In the end, it didn't last forever.  
But that was alright.

Aziraphale liked the feeling of Crowley washing his hair but he also liked being held by him and so he returned to his former place, close to the demon's warm chest with the back of his head resting on his shoulder.

"Your marks are beautiful," Crowley mumbled after a while. He snuggled a bit closer and touched one of the golden lines on Aziraphale's skin with one fingertip. "I think I haven't told you yet."  
"Thank you, Crowley," Aziraphale whispered. He closed his eyes again, listening to the soft noises the water made whenever Crowley moved.

He felt dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"Mm, the water's getting cold, dear," he mumbled sleepily. He didn't move, though.  
"Mhmm." Crowley sighed into the angel's nearly dry hair. "But I don't wanna get out yet. Can't you miracle it warm again?" he asked. Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at him with a smile.  
"We can't stay in here forever," he said.  
"No, but - just a little longer." Crowley hugged him closer. "Come on, please, angel."

Aziraphale sighed.

"But the shop," he tried half-heartedly. "And I still have to prepare breakfast. And -"

Aziraphale fell silent when he felt the temperature of the water change.  
He touched it a couple of times to make sure he was not imagining things. But it was true, it definitely had become warmer.

"That wasn't me," he said. "Crowley, did you -" He turned around and watched the demon's face. He looked at least as surprised as he did.  
"I didn't do anything," he promised, touching the water gingerly. "Seriously, this isn't funny, angel, did you do this?" he asked.  
There was a sudden pain in his voice.

Aziraphale shook his head.

"No, I swear I didn't. Crowley, my dear," he said, kneeling before him and gently cupping his cheeks with his hands. "It must have been you. It wasn't me. I swear, it wasn't me."  
"But - But I can't, angel. You know I can't, I -"

Aziraphale couldn't stand the pain in his eyes. But he knew he was right.  
He took Crowley's hands and pulled them to his chest, hugging them close.

"Just try, dear," he said hopefully. "Try to change the temperature of the water."

Crowley ducked his head and shook it.  
Aziraphale just squeezed his hands gently and with a little sigh the demon closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on performing a miracle.

"I can't," he sighed. He wouldn't meet the angel's eyes. "I just didn't do it. It wasn't me, angel, it must have been you."  
"No, I know you can, Crowley." Aziraphale squeezed his hands again. "Come, just try again," he said. "Yes, right, and if you succeed we can stay in the water as long as you want to. And if you don't we'll get out now and I'll make breakfast. What do you think?"

Crowley looked at him for a moment, his brows drawn together tightly. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," he mumbled. "Okay, I'll try."

He leaned his head back until it touched the edge of the bath tub and let it rest there. He also closed his eyes again, still holding on to Aziraphale's hands. The angel squeezed them gently.  
It took Crowley a few minutes but then, suddenly, Aziraphale could feel the water getting much colder.

A laugh escaped his mouth and he flung his arms around the demon's neck, kissing him hard. Crowley pulled him closer and laughed against Aziraphale's lips before kissing him back.

The water around them turned warm again.

"You enjoying your bath?" Crowley asked with a big smile across his face. He looked like there was nothing that could stop him now, like he had everything he needed. "I sure hope you do," he grinned, "'cause we're gonna stay a little longer."

Aziraphale shook his head and just kissed him again.

"See?" he said with a satisfied smile on his lips. He sank bank into the demon's arms, the back of his head leaning against his shoulder again. "I knew you could do it, dear." He closed his eyes and nodded to himself, nuzzling closer. "We'll practise," he promised. "We'll practise together, yes?"

Crowley just nodded.  
He hugged Aziraphale close to his chest.

"Thank you, angel," he whispered after a while.  
"Oh no, don't thank me, dear." Azirsphale closed his eyes. "You're the one who will have to do all the work, remember that."

They both chuckled softly.


	18. A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's pretend i didn't just vanish for more than a month, okay?

"Do you wanna go out with me?" Crowley asked a bit suddenly. 

Aziraphale who had been lying in the demon's arms lifted his head and looked at him sleepily. He yawned.

"Mm sorry, dear, what was that?" he asked and when he yawned again, Crowley chuckled.  
"I asked you if you would like to go out," he repeated, lifting his hand from Aziraphale's back to point at himself. "With me."   
"But - Huh? When? Why?"

Crowley sighed impatiently.

"I don't know, angel, I just thought -" He stopped and started grinning. "Why did you kiss me at the park?" he asked instead. 

Aziraphale just sighed and pressed his face against Crowley's warm chest.  
For a week the demon had been using that same question against him. Over and over again, just to make fun of him.

"That was more than a week ago now, Crowley," Aziraphale mumbled, feeling himself blishing again.  
Then he lifted his head slowly and looked at the demon, trying a fake pout.

Crowley just laughed at him.

"Oh, come on, answer the question, angel," he said, still laughing. "Please?" he added with a grin.  
"Well, I already told you. I - I kissed you because I wanted to try - well, I wanted to try something," Aziraphale said, blushing even more now.

"See?" Crowley was still grinning at him and he looked way too smug for the angel's taste. "I just wanna try something, I guess," he said with a small chuckle. Aziraphale could feel his chest shaking slightly because of it. "I wanna try going out with you, you see. And may I also remind you that we're dating now? We can't be dating without any real dates, can we?"

Aziraphale gave him a look but then he saw Crowley's eyes.  
That demon really wanted to do this. He really wantes to try going on a date with him.

Still, Aziraphale wasn't sure.

"But what about - what about them?" he asked with a gentle nod towards the ground next to their bed.

Crowley understood. He sighed.  
It was such a heavy sound, Aziraphale didn't like it at all.

"Well, I don't care about them," he said after a while but he shook his head as soon as the words had tumbled out of his mouth. "Okay no, that's not true." He sighed again. "Actually, I do care. I care a lot. I - I am scared."

He looked so fragile again, just saying that.  
Aziraphale touched his shoulder, then he cupped his face gently and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I am so scared, just thinking about them," Crowley went on before Aziraphale could say anything to reassure him that they didn't have to do this. "But I can't do this anymore," he mumbled quietly. "I can't - I can't let them have this kind of power over me. I mean, we haven't even left the shop since we went to the park together, Aziraphale. We're hiding from them."

He gave the angel a look.

"And don't you say we're not hiding from them, angel. We are, even if you won't admit it. Don't think I did not noticed all those little excuses of yours."

He held up a hand before Aziraphale could say something to explain himself. He looked at him softly, he wasn't angry.

"And that is alright," he said quickly. "I understand that you're trying to protect both of us. But - I have been hiding for almost six thousand years now, in one way or another. I don't want to do that anymore, angel. I am tired of it."  
"And you don't have to anymore," Aziraphale whispered, feeling his stomach clench at the thought of Crowley being captured again. Because of him. Because of being with him.

He felt utterly sick at the thought of what they would possibly do to him if they ever got him again.

"I'll be there," he promised, trying to sound stronger and more confident than he actually felt. "I promise you, Crowley. If they want you they'll have to deal with me first."

A sad smile appeared on Crowley's lips.  
He reached out and touched the angel's cheek gently before taking his hand into his own. Their fingers interwined almost immediatly.

"Don't get into trouble, angel," Crowley asked gently, stroking Aziraphale's thumb with his own. "Please, not for me."  
"You know very well that I will. It's what we do," Aziraphale said with a sad chuckle. "I am the one who gets us into trouble and you are the one who gets us out of it again."

There was a sad little smile on both of their faces.  
Then Crowley's eyes grew soft as he looked at Aziraphale.

"I'll always get you out of trouble," he said and they both knew it was a promise.  
"I know," Aziraphale nodded. He let his head rest on Crowley's chest again, smelling their shared soap on his skin. "Yes, I know," he repeated.

"The Ritz," Crowley mumbled suddenly, after a while. "I mean, you like The Ritz, don't you? So, What do you think?"

Aziraphale lifted his head again, giving the demon a sleepy look.

"Huh?" he asked with a yawn, again.  
"Would you like to go to the Ritz with me?" Crowley asked, wriggling his brows. He smiled. "For our date, I mean."  
"Our date," Aziraphale repeated his words, curious what they would feel like, coming from his mouth. "So you're sure about this, then?" he asked. "You're sure you want us to go out? With me?"

Crowley shifted slightly beneath the angel's weight and put an arm behind his head, looking up at Aziraphale.  
Then he just nodded at him.

Aziraphale nodded back at him.

"So, do you have any plans for tonight, sir?" he asked the angel who was still lying on top of him. There was a smile on his face and for a moment Aziraphale struggled to concentrate on anything else but his lips.  
"Hmm, tonight?" Aziraphale asked teasingly. "Let me think. Huh, no, not really," he continued with a little grin of his own. "I kind of had the plan to fall asleep on my future date's chest. But maybe if there's any better offer I might just -"

He traded off, shrugging slightly and grinning at Crowley.  
The demon raised an eyebrow at him.

"Your date, huh?" he asked. "Good-looking fella? Handsome?"  
"Oh, just ask me out already, Crowley," Aziraphale sighed impatiently. "Before I change my mind."

The demon just kept grinning at him.  
He raised his chin a bit and brought his lips close to Aziraphale's but he would not kiss him. Not yet. His lips were just hovering above Aziraphale's mouth.

"Would you like to dine with me at the Ritz, angel?" he asked with the innocence of a lamb.  
"I'd love to, yes," Aziraphale whispered and he nodded which made his lips bump into Crowley's.

He sighed gently when the demon finally kissed him back and when he was about to end the kiss, all Aziraphale wanted was for it to last a little longer.  
Crowley was like a drug.

"I need your help with my outfit," Crowley said, withdrawing from the angel so he couldn't reach his lips anymore.  
He smiled at him and then tried to get a look at the clock. 

"Mmm, what time is it?" Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes again.  
He didn't really want to get up yet. He did not want to move.  
He just wanted to stay right here, on top of Crowley who was holding him close to his very comfortable warm chest.

"It's half past 7," Crowley said which just made Aziraphale sigh again.  
"But that means we'll have to get dressed soon," he mumbled into the demon's chest. "Which means that we have to get up. Now."  
"Yeah, better remember that feeling before you try and force me out of bed next time," Crowley chuckled.

He sat up without listening to any of Aziraphale's complaints.  
He even pushed him away with a gentle shove.  
The angel pouted at him.

"Well," Crowley grinned, "I'd say let's have a quick little bath together before we go. But you look like you'd just fall asleep in there."

Aziraphale just rolled his eyes.  
He got out of bed and started collecting all the loose pieces of clothing that he had freed himself of to be closer to Crowley's warmth.

"I'll go and take a shower," he mumbled and he went into the bathroom to freshen up.

When he walked out of the bathroom again, still fumbling with some buttons of his shirt, he almost bumped into Crowley.

He must have been waiting at the door. Impatiently, he pushed the angel out of his way and went into the bathroom. And a few seconds later Aziraphale could hear the sound of water behind the door.  
The demon had not closed it completely, he never did when he was alone in the bathroom.

Aziraphale went back into the bedroom and opened the upper drawer of one of the dressers. After a few seconds of careful consideration he chose the bow tie he had worn at the park a few days ago.  
The one Crowley had given to him. The one with the pattern that looked like angel wings.

Just when he had finished tying his bow tie Crowley came back, a towel wrapped around his sharp hipbones. His wet hair he had put into a messy bun.  
Aziraphale watched a few drops of water that came from the demon's wet hair. They rolled down his collar bones and chest before being caught in the soft fabric of his towel.

Crowley didn't seem to notice the angel staring.  
Or maybe he just didn't mind.

He went to their shared wardrobe and opened it, looking inside it for a while.

He pulled the tie from his hair while he did so and then snapped his fingers absent-mindedly. The miracle worked and his dark curls dried within seconds.  
Only a few wet stains betrayed him and revealed that he was still having some problems with performing miracles every now and then.

But the demon looked quite satisfied with himself and Aziraphale gave him a smile when he looked at him.

"Now, what do you want me to wear?" Crowley asked and when he looked at Aziraphale and this time his eyes were caught by the bow tie the angel was wearing. "Oh, and nice bow tie," he grinned.  
He gave him an approving nod.

"So?" he asked then. "What should I wear?"  
"What matters most is that you like it," Aziraphale replied but the demon gave him a look.  
"Maybe I just tried to flirt a bit, angel," he sighed. "I wanted to know what you like so I can wear it, you know. Now, shall we try again? What should I wear?"

Aziraphale looked at him, considering his answer.

"Well, I did like the skirt you wore in the park," he admitted after a while. "Maybe another skirt?" he suggested. "Or some dress? Oh, er, but only if that's alright with who you are presenting as today and, er -"  
"Still just presenting as Crowley, angel," Crowley interruped gently before he turned towards their wardobe again.

He chose a black dress and held it to his chest.  
Then he turned back to Aziraphale.

"What do you think?" he asked.

A little smile appeared on his lips and Aziraphale knew Crowley loved that dress just by the way he looked at it.

He nodded.

"Try it on," the angel said, touching his arm gently. "I am sure it'll look great on you, dear."

Crowley looked at the dress and pretend like he was not entirely convinced yet but the smile on his lips gave him away.  
He chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah, I guess, I'll give it a go," he said.

He pulled away the towel and let it drop to the floor.  
Aziraphale bent over and took it to bring it away while Crowley changed into some fresh underwear. When he came back into the bedroom the demon was fully dressed.  
He turned around and pointed at his back.

"Would you mind?" he asked, holding up his hair.

Aziraphale nodded and came closer to help him with the zipper. His knuckles brushed the soft skin of Crowley's back a few times and Aziraphale could see him shiver slightly.  
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

"Thanks," Crowley said, shivering again.

He let his hair down again and ran his hands over the fabric of the dress, brushing away some creases only he was seeing.  
Then he looked at the angel expectingly.

"So?" he asked. "What do you think, angel?"

Aziraphale looked at him in the dress and he couldn't hide a smile.  
The dress barely covered his knees but it couldn't be considered too short yet. A leathery belt was wrapped around his small hips but the real eye catcher was the neckline of the dress, decorated with golden ornaments.

"I love it," Aziraphale said with a gentle nod.

He smiled at him and reached out his hand to take Crowley's.  
He spinned him around and the dress danced around his knees.

"You look great, Crowley," Aziraphale said.  
"Thanks, angel." Crowley looked a bit embarrassed, as if he had not expected the angel to like him so much in that dress. He dropped his gaze and looked at himself, he seemed to be having an idea. "I think some heels would add a nice touch, wouldn't they?" he asked.

He smiled and bent over to take a black pair of heels from the bottom of the wardrobe and slip into them.

Aziraphale had to admit that his long legs looked really good in them and to see Crowley like that left the angel with a funny feeling in his stomach.  
Wearing the heels, Crowley was even taller than usual. He almost seemed to hover over the angel now.

But Crowley didn't really seem to notice. He just went over to the dresser and opened the first drawer, choosing what jewellry he wanted to wear to the dress.  
Aziraphale watched him.

And he chuckled softly when Crowley chose a golden bracelet that looked like a snake wrapping around his bony wrist. He didn't usually wear a lot of golden jewellry, Aziraphale noticed. He seemed to prefer silver.

"Do you own anything that's not snake-related?" the angel asked with another chuckle and Crowley looked at him for a second before he grabbed a necklace from the drawer and held it up so the angel could see it.  
The pendant was a dark red apple.

Aziraphale started laughing.

"Very subtle," he said, still chuckling.  
"Well, have I ever been?" Crowley asked with a grin before he put the necklace back.  
"No." Aziraphale shook his head. "No, dear, you really haven't." 

The angel took a step forward and put his arms around the demon's waist. Crowley sighed gently and let the back of his head drop onto Aziraphale's shoulder.  
Then they just stood there for a moment, enjoying being close to each other.

Aziraphale closed his eyes and smiled into Crowley's neck as he hugged him close. He even slid his hands foward until they were resting on the demon's warm belly.  
After a some time Crowley put his hands on Aziraphale's.

Soon he started playing with the signet ring that the angel had been wearing for more than six thousant years now.

"Wait, let me try something," Aziraphale said and he took Crowley's hands into his own.

He took off his ring, for the first time since he had chosen it, and put it on Crowley's ring finger that was thin enough for it to fit perfectly.  
When Aziraphale let go of the demon's waist and stepped around him to give him a little smile he noticed that Crowley was avoiding his eyes. His hands had started shaking ever so slightly.

"I - I've never seen you without that ring, angel," he mumbled, sounding a bit choked.  
"Well, there's a first time for everything." Aziraphale gave him a smile and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. "You can keep it if you want," he added without thinking.

He didn't know why he had said that.  
But he did know that he had meant it.

"No. Aziraphale, I can't just, I -" Crowley shook his head, looking at the angel. "No, I can't," he repeated.  
"Why not?" Aziraphale asked.  
"Because - Well, because I prefer silver, of course," Crowley said, dodging the subject like he always did.

He ducked his head but raised his eyes again to look at Aziraphale when the angel started chuckling.  
But he noticed tears in the demon's eyes and stopped laughing immediatly.

Gently, he touched Crowley's cheek.

"You do not have to wear it if you don't want to, my dear," he said softly.  
"No. No, but I want to wear it. I just - I don't think I can keep it." Crowley sighed. "I would never forgive myself if I lost it. Happens quite a lot, you see."  
"You don't have to wear it," Aziraphale repeated and Crowley nodded, a silent gratitude in his eyes.  
"But I will for today." He gave the angel a little smile and held up his hand so they could both see the ring on his finger. 

Aziraphale started chuckling again and he took his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his palm.

"Would you help me with my hair?" Crowley asked then. "I love when you're doing it for me," he admitted.  
"Of course." Aziraphale smiled and motioned for the demon to sit on the bed. "Come. Sit, my dear."

Crowley did as he was told and sat down on the bed, waiting for Aziraphale who climbed onto the bed as well. He kneeled behind the demon's back and then started brushing his hair with a brush.  
Crowley just sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead before he brushed back his hair with his fingers and started braiding it, his tongue between his teeth.

"Finished," he smiled after a while, putting his arms around the demon's shoulders.  
He held him close to his chest and they just sat there for another moment, enjoying each other.

"What are your thoughts on make up?" Crowley asked after a while. Aziraphale didn't even have to think twice.  
"I bet it would look amazing on you," he said.  
"Mr Basak gave me some lipstick that'd be perfect with the dress." He started smiling. "I think he kinda liked me. But he probably thought we were sort of an item and kept it subtle."  
"You're unbelievable, Crowley," Aziraphale chuckled into the demon's neck. "Always going around like that, tempting poor souls into giving you little presents."  
"I don't always do that. Besides, it's not even my fault. It was him who decided to give it to me, angel, I just politely accepted it," he defended himself. "You know, maybe I just felt too nice to turn him down."

Aziraphale just shook his head at him.

"I don't think Mr Basak was the only one who liked you, though, you know that?" he said after another moment of silence.

Crowley gave him a look.

"What do you mean?"  
"Remember that lady in the plant shop?" Aziraphale asked. "I think she was a bit too eager to get close to you."

Crowley closed his eyes and the angel could feel him shudder in his arms.

"So you noticed, huh?" he asked, shaking his head slightly. "She made me feel really uncomfortable, to be honest. That's why I waited for you outside at the Bentley. Because she just kept smiling and touching me like it was an accident."  
"I could see that," Aziraphale mumbled.

He remembered the strange feeling in his gut when he had seen them together like that.

"I wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable, was I?" Crowley asked with a cheeky grin. "Don't even try to deny it, angel. I mean, I saw your face when she touched me, it was really obvious you didn't like it at all."

Aziraphale blushed.

"I didn't - I -" He sighed. "Well frankly, she made me feel quite a bit jealous," he admitted. Crowley knew, there was no need denying it.  
"Jealous?" the demon asked, still grinning. "Well, but that's not very angelic, is it?"  
"Oh, shut up, you wily old serpent."


	19. Dining at The Ritz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¿drama?

Aziraphale stood at the front door of the bookshop, thumbing through one of his books while he was waiting for Crowley. He had chosen Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, a book he loved very dearly.  
It was one of his most precious first editions.

Like always, he immediatly got taken away by the book but when he heard the noise of Crowley's shoes Aziraphale lifted his head.

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale and seeing the demon like this made him forget about his book completely. All he could focus on was Crowley.

The demon grinned at him cheekily.  
Aziraphale had not even tried to hide his feelings, Crowley must have seen it all on his face.

But he looked so good.  
He was wearing the lipstick now that he had told Aziraphale about earlier, and it made his lips look darker, even a bit fuller maybe.  
Aziraphale loved it.

"No kissing or it'll smudge," Crowley warned him, which meant he must have noticed the way Aziraphale had been gazing at his mouth longingly.  
"I guess I'll have to behave, then," the angel smiled sheepishly.

He closed the book in his hands that he had completely forgotten about. He hurried away to put it back on its shelf, then he returned to Crowley and helped him into his coat, smiling at him as he blushed softly.

"Ready?" he asked, one hand on the doorknob, the other one touching Crowley's arm gently. The demon took a deep breath and then nodded. "You're sure about this?" Aziraphale added. He certainly wasn't sure about this.  
"Yeah." Crowley just nodded again, gulping. "Yeah, I am. Let's go, angel."

He reached into one of his pockets and grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses. He put them on. They gave each other a small nod before Aziraphale offered Crowley his arm, trying to calm both of them with that gesture.  
The demon smiled at him and took it, holding onto Aziraphale as they left the shop and went outside.

"Now, what would you like to listen to?" Crowley asked as soon as they had climbed into his car.

He leaned over, touching Aziraphale's thigh for support, and reached for the glove compartment where he kept all of his CDs.  
He sighed.

"Oh well, you can choose between Queen and, er, more Queen and even more Queen. Because all of those records are Queen by now." He moved his hand in an apologetic motion. "Sorry, guess I forgot to bring something new."  
"It's fine, just play - well, whatever that band is called again," Aziraphale said.

Crowley groaned.

"Seriously, angel, I just said their name four times in a row and you still won't remember? It's Queen, they're called Queen," he said and Aziraphale didn't even have to be able to see through Crowley's dark glasses to know what kind of look he was giving him right now.

"Yes, alright," Aziraphale said, trying hard not to chuckle. "Queen, then. Just play them. They don't seem utterly bad."  
"Not utterly bad," Crowley grunted, shaking his head.

He reached for some random CD from the glove compartment and put it on. And before he started the engines, he even turned the volume down a bit and nodded at Aziraphale, a satisfied grin on his lips.

"Can I touch your knee?" Crowley asked after a while.

Aziraphale, who had been watching the beautiful sunset through the window, jumped slightly.

He turned his head and looked at him. Then he nodded, feeling a funny tickling sensation in his stomach.  
Aziraphale smiled when he put his hand on top of the demon's hand that was resting on his knee now, his palm facing upwards so they could interlock their fingers.

And then they were silent during the ride and they listened to the music on the radio. Aziraphale had to admit that he did not dislike the band. Not at all. He probably even liked them. Quite a lot, actually.  
But he wouldn't ever tell Crowley, of course.

"Crowley - Crowley didn't you see the sign? You can't park here," Aziraphale exclaimed when Crowley stopped the car next to a road work site. But the demon just started waving his hand dismissively.  
"Do I look like someone who would park a beauty like this car next to a bloody site?" he asked. "I am certainly not going to risk scratching the Bentley now that I have her back."

The demon gave him a look.

"Then what are we doing here?" Aziraphale sighed. Crowley leaned forward, looking like he was trying to reach something at his feet. "We're nowhere even near the Ritz, we're - Crowley, what are you doing?"  
"Getting rid of those shoes," Crowley said, his voice muffled. He grimaced slightly, sitting up straight again, waving at Aziraphale with both of his shoes in his hands. "These stupid things are not made for driving."

He sighed, sounding relieved as he wiggled his toes. He smiled at Aziraphale who was shaking his head slightly and dumped the shoes into his lap.

"Thanks," he grinned before starting the engines again.

And then they just fell silent again and Crowley's hand found Aziraphale's who was still holding his shoes for him.

"I swear, sometimes I think she knows what to play," Crowley said with a grin, nodding at the car's radio. "The Bentley, I mean."

Aziraphale smiled. The song was about a couple that was about to meet at The Ritz at 9. When he glanced at the clock the angel noticed that it was nearly 9 now.

"What's the name of the song?" Aziraphale asked.  
"Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy," Crowley said. He looked at Aziraphale, smiling. "Do you like it?"  
"Actually, I do." Aziraphale squeezed his hand at that and continued to look outside the window, listening to Crowley's music.

He got so lost in thought that it almost startled him a bit when, suddenly, Crowley stopped the car right in front of The Ritz.

"You are not going to park anywhere you're actually allowed to park, are you?" Aziraphale asked with a groan while he watched Crowley let go of his hand, trying to squeeze into one of his shoes again.  
"Nope." The demon shook his head and grabbed the other shoe from the angel's lap.

Aziraphale sighed but he decided not to say anything about it. He didn't really care anymore where Crowley parked his car and whether it was legal or not.  
And he was a demon, after all. Breaking rules was part of his job description, like he liked to remind the angel.

Aziraphale got out of the car and waited for Crowley. The demon needed a moment to fix his dress but when he was done with that he reached out his hand and took Aziraphale's.

Together, they went into the restaurant and soft light welcomed them in.

Crowley did not waste any time, though. He went straight towards the young waiter that was waiting at the entrance, hands folded neatly over his belly while he greeted new guests.

"A table for the two of us," the demon said and Aziraphale gave him a gentle nudge.  
"Please," the angel added with a polite smile.  
"With all due respect - er - ma'am," the waiter said. "But I don't think you understand how this works. This is The Ritz, you see, you cannot expect us to -" Aziraphale snapped his fingers behind his back, smiling at the waiter when he glanced at him for a second. "Oh, actually, wait. Wait, yes, looks like someone just gave up their reservation," the man corrected himself. He gave both of them a polite nod of his head. "Please, follow me."

Crowley gave Aziraphale a look but the angel just pretended not to notice. Instead, he followed the man and since they were still holding hands, he pulled Crowley along and the demon had to follow him, too.

The waiter showed them to a table that was near the big white piano. Aziraphale gave Crowley a gentle smile, remembering the last time they had been here together.

"I'd prefer to keep them, thank you," Crowley said firmly after the waiter had helped them out of their coats. He had tried to reach for the demon's glasses, too.  
He just nodded and apologised a few times, resulting in Crowley giving him a bored look which made the young man stop fuzzing over him.

"The menu," he mumbled, handing them small books instead. "Oh, and would you like some candle light?" he asked and when he saw angel and demon nodding happily he lit a white candle that was standing between them on the table.

"Thank you," Aziraphale thanked him, giving him a big smile.  
"You're welcome, sir. I'll be right back, if there's anything I can do for you just let me know."

He nodded and then left them alone.  
Aziraphale was almost certain that he was scared of Crowley.

He gave the demon a look and saw him gazing at him. Or at least that's what he seemed to be doing, Aziraphale couldn't really see his expression behind his glasses.

"Have you decided what you would like to order?" Aziraphale asked when he noticed that Crowley had closed his menu again already.  
"Lasagne, I guess." He shrugged. "I guess I like lasagne."  
"Maybe we could make some ourselves some time," Aziraphale suggested with a smile. "At home. Both of us, together."

Crowley just shrugged again, trying to look cool. But there was a smile on his lips that gave him away, that smile that Aziraphale liked more than anything else.

When the waiter returned they ordered their meals and some wine.

"To us?" Aziraphale suggested, raising his glass. Crowley smiled at him.  
"To us," he agreed before he bumped his glass against Aziraphale's.

Later, Aziraphale couldn't help but watch Crowley eat. When their eyes met he always gave the angel a smile before returning to his lasagne.  
After a while Crowley started smiling a bit longingly and reached out his hand. Aziraphale thought that he was just reaching for the bottle of wine and he gave him a little nod. But then Crowley put his hand on top of the angel's hand that was lying on the table.  
His fingers felt warm and gentle and good on his skin.

Aziraphale knew he was blushing and he looked back at the demon sheepishly, seeing him grinning at him.

He wasn't sure whether he had ever seen Crowley smile so much. He liked to act cool and grumpy around everyone he met and Aziraphale knew him to be someone who wouldn't say no to a bit of evil every now and then, some wicked mischief, some planned chaos. He was a demon, after all.  
But now he was smiling at him almost constantly. And he listened to what Aziraphale had to say these days without dismissing most of his ideas off-hand.

He looked happier than Aziraphale had seen him in a very long time.

It almost seemed as if all these years had softened him a bit. As if they had changed him.  
But Aziraphale knew this wasn't true.  
Crowley was still the same.

There was this sarcastic, evil mask he liked to wear. A mask he had had to wear for such a long time in order not to attract any attention from Hell. And part of that mask, that had probably become part of his personality at some point, had worn off after all this time.  
The things Hell had done to him, the things the thoughts of it were still doing to him, had worn him off, had made him seem softer.

But he had always been soft. Within, he was gentle and anxious, kind, wise.  
Aziraphale knew that soon Crowley's preference for mischief and chaos would be back, just like the jokes and the sarcasm were coming back. It was part of who he was.  
But maybe his jokes wouldn't be as bitter anymore as they had been before. Because now he wouldn't need to hide behind mean jokes anymore. Not with Aziraphale, he wouldn't let him do that to himself any longer.

He didn't have to hide anymore.  
They could be themselves now.

That's all Aziraphale wanted.

Crowley moved his thumb over the angel's hand, tilting his head bit to to catch his eyes. He gave him a look, as if he wanted to make sure the angel was alright.

Aziraphale just nodded and gave him a smile.  
He was more than alright. He felt great.  
He felt happier than ever before.

If someone had told him five years ago that one day he would be meeting Crowley at The Ritz for a date, holding his hand and smiling at him like that, Aziraphale would have laughed. If someone had told him that one day he would be kissing the demon and that he would enjoy it, he would have thought them mad.

But now here he was, on a date with Crowley at The Ritz, holding his hand, smiling at him like a lovesick fool. And by now they had kissed so many times that Aziraphale had given up on counting.  
And he enjoyed it all so much.

"Are you alright?" Crowley asked and Aziraphale jumped slightly.  
"Oh. Yes. Yes, my love," he chuckled with a soft smile before he realised what he had just said.

Aziraphale froze.

Feeling a hot wave of blood rushing to his face, he ducked his head and decided to look at the table cloth instead of Crowley, trying to think of something he could say.  
He let go of the demon's hand and started playing with the napkin in his lap.

He was about to try some weak apology for what he had just said to the demon when the waiter came back to their table to see whether they were fine.

"Would you like some dessert?" he asked, taking away their empty plates.

Aziraphale remained silent, not capable of saying anything right now. He kept staring at his lap until he heard Crowley sigh.

"No, I think we'd like to pay," the demon said.

Aziraphale didn't show any reaction at all.  
From the corner of his eye he could see the waiter nod and go away but he still didn't dare to open his mouth, afraid that he'd sound stupid.

Crowley didn't say anything, either. He just waited for the waiter to return.  
And maybe he was waiting for Aziraphale to explain himself.

"The bill," the waiter said when he came back.  
He put the piece of paper on the table.

For the first time since that word had slipped out of Aziraphale's mouth, the angel lifted his head. He and Crowley reached for the bill at the same time and their fingers brushed.  
Crowley drew back his hand and let Aziraphale take care of the bill. The angel paid with his credit card and rose from his chair, eager to leave the place as quickly as he could without having to talk to Crowley.


	20. My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i know it's been like three months...  
> i swear i don't know how to write anymore, i'm really sorry.

Crowley and Aziraphale left The Ritz, neither of them saying a word. The angel couldn't even make himself look at the demon that was walking next to him in silence.

Aziraphale was headed straight for the Bentley that was still waiting in front of the restaurant where Crowley had parked it earlier. But before they reached it, Crowley caught up with him and suddenly grabbed his wrist to hold him back.  
His fingers felt warm on his skin.

"Can we go for a walk?" he asked gently. "I think I'd like to talk."

Aziraphale hesitated. He closed his eyes and sighed and when he opened them again, he nodded at the demon.

They left the Bentley where it was and took a turn which lead them to the Greene Park that was nearby. The park was very quiet and even though there were always Londoners out on the streets, this night the whole park seemed to be nearly abandoned.  
Every now and then all they saw was some young couple on a walk together or a few people on their way home after work.

"Can I take you hand, angel?" Crowley asked after a while and the back of his hand brushed Aziraphale's hand.

At first Aziraphale shivered and drew back his hand but then he sighed and looked at Crowley. The demon hesitated. He seemed to wait for Aziraphale to make a move.  
And so he reached out and took his hand.

"Sorry, it's just that - You still want that, then?" he asked, not daring to look at Crowley for longer than a few seconds.

He noticed the confused look on his face.

"I still - Why shouldn't I want to hold your hand anymore?" Crowley asked. He stopped walking.  
Aziraphale stopped as well. He ducked his head.

"Because - Because of what I said at The Ritz?" he suggested weakly. "Because - Well, by saying that I made things much more complicated and -"  
"Complicated?" Crowley shook his head. His voice sounded surprised. "Angel, what are you talking about? What you said didn't really make anything complicated at all. Well," he gave him a soft smile, "at least until you started acting like you said something absolutely terrible."

When Aziraphale didn't react to that, he sighed and stepped a bit closer.  
He was standing right in front of the angel now and with his long, gentle fingers he lifted his chin to make Aziraphale look at him.

"Honestly, I have no idea why you're so embarrassed about what you said, Aziraphale," Crowley said and the angel could feel his warm breath on his cheeks, that's how close they were. "I don't understand why it's freaking you out so much."

Aziraphale dropped his gaze and Crowley let go of his chin, nodding.

"Alright, please tell me, then. Help me understand," he pleaded. "What's wrong with what you said?"  
"I just -" Aziraphale didn't know what to say. "I don't know if -" He sighed and when he couldn't find the right words, he shrugged and shook his head.  
"You don't know if you meant it?" Crowley suggested and Aziraphale could hear the pain in his voice.

He touched his arm.

"That's not what I said, Crowley," he mumbled, trying to dodge the question because he didn't know what was going on anymore. "It's not what I - It's not what I meant," he said. "Not at all."

Crowley hesitated and he looked at Aziraphale like he was trying to read his mind.  
He sighed. Then he just nodded before he took the angel's hand and started walking again.

"You're being ridiculous, you know that?" he said. But there was no anger in his voice, no accusation.

They walked side by side for a while, holding each other's hand in silence.  
Aziraphale hesitated but after a few minutes he noticed that he started feeling better again, more at ease. He glanced at the demon at his side and interlocked their fingers.  
He trusted him. And it felt like he had to show him.

"I liked the evening," Crowley started after a while. "I liked spending it with you."

Aziraphale hesitated but then he nodded.  
He glanced at Crowley and nodded again.

"I liked it too," he mumbled.

Crowley nodded as well.

"So, would you like to do it again sometime?" he asked and, again, Aziraphale hesitated for a moment.  
"I think so, yes," he said with a small nod.  
"Good." Crowley gave him a gentle smile. He seemed to be even more careful around him now. Like he was trying not to push Aziraphale, to show him that he could wait.

And it hurt Aziraphale. He didn't want Crowley to think that he didn't want him near or that he didn't need him.  
Because he did. He needed him more than anything.

"Let us visit that Italian one next time," Crowley continued, making Aziraphale look at him. "The one in Soho, the one we visited last week, I mean. I liked the waitress, what's her name again?"  
"Lydia," Aziraphale said absent-mindedly.  
"Yes, her. I liked her. Let us go there next time, what do you think?"  
"I think she'll be quite excited to see us," Aziraphale mumbled and he felt a sudden heat in his face when he looked at their hands. "Since we actually started - started dating, I mean." He hesitated. "Crowley, are we - are we still dating?"

The demon just looked at him and he seemed to be thinking about that question for a moment.

"Of course we are," he said after a while, squeezing Aziraphale's hand gently. "We're whatever you want us to be, angel."

Aziraphale nodded, feeling so grateful for Crowley's ability to always find the right things to say. To always be so honest with him. To always know what to do to make him feel better.

They fell silent again and Aziraphale, always so quick to get lost in thought as soon as Crowley stopped talking, noticed the gnawing worry that he had been trying to ignore for quite some time now.  
He couldn't remember a time when he had not been worried about things. Sometimes it felt like it was his nature to worry about things. Maybe it really was.

But, just for a moment, he ignored the worry and concentrated on the feeling of Crowley's warm palm against his own. He tried to enjoy it, to enjoy the knowledge that Crowley was here with him and that he was understanding and patient with him, that he was trying to help him express himself.  
Besides Crowley, nobody's ever done that for him before.

Slowly, very slowly, Aziraphale noticed the pressure that he had been feeling vanish.  
Once again, Crowley had managed to distract him from all his worries, even though the demon himself had become one of his greatest worries lately.

They started talking about casual things again, about Lydia and her hair. Crowley suggested growing his hair out more so the angel could style it just like Lydia's. Aziraphale chuckled at that, secretly loving the idea a lot.  
But before he could make himself say that their conversation had went on.

After another while, Crowley fell silent again.  
He sighed.

"Do you remember when I told you about the day they took me?" the demon asked.  
His voice sounded strange and it made Aziraphale worry again.

He nodded, looking up at him, unsure where this would be leading.

"I told you that I left the Bentley at home to take you out for a walk. I said I wanted to tell you something, remember?"

Aziraphale just nodded again.  
He felt a strange emotion in his belly. Worry, probably, but some new kind of worry.

Crowley stopped walking and let go of the angel's hand. Instead, he thrust both of his into the pockets of his coat.  
He looked anxious again. The way he ducked his head, the way he slumped his shoulders. Aziraphale didn't like it.

"After what you said at The Ritz, I think I should - Well, I've been meaning - Maybe now's the moment to tell you something that - I have wanted to tell you for a while now," he continued. "I, er -"

He chuckled nervously.  
Aziraphale noticed his hands in his pockets, the way they moved against the fabric from the inside.

"I wanted to tell you that - If this is too fast, angel, I am terribly sorry but -" He looked at the sky for a moment before he looked at Aziraphale again. "I fell in love with you," he pointed out flatly, and his voice was so soft and quiet that Aziraphale almost missed what he'd even said. "I - I love you, angel," Crowley added, his voice even quieter now.

Aziraphale blinked, unable to say anything.

How many times had he wondered what it was that connected the two of them? How many times had he wondered what he felt for the demon.

Way too many times.  
And it had got worse since Crowley had come back.

Aziraphale had not been able to say what it was what he felt for the demon. Nothing had seemed to fit, nothing ever seemed entirely right.  
They had been so much. They'd been enemies, acquaintances, companions, colleagues, fellows, mates, friends.

How could love fit into that?  
Actually, it fit quite well, now that Aziraphale considered it.

As an angel, a being made of love, Aziraphale had never considered love to be what he was feeling for Crowley. For his friend, for his companion. For the demon that was standing right in front of him now, hands thrust into his pockets, nose turned slightly red from the cold of the night.

Love was such a big word. It made things much more serious, much more real.  
But it also made things much more easier.

"Angel?" Crowley asked anxiously when Aziraphale still hadn't said a thing. He looked scared, ducking his head even more now. "I know, I -" He was looking for words. "I know I'm a demon. I know I shouldn't even be capable of something like - I shouldn't be able to love. But I swear, Aziraphale, I wouldn't lie to you, I wouldn't -"  
"I love you too," Aziraphale interrupted him, feeling a bit suprised how easy it was to say those three words. "I love you, Crowley," he repeated with a chuckle that made his head feel light and his belly warm. "Yes, I love you."

Crowley didn't say a thing. He remained silent but Aziraphale could see tears rolling down his cheeks.

Gently, Aziraphale pulled away his glasses before cupping the demon's face. He pulled him closer and pressed his lips to his face again and again to kiss away his tears.  
He could taste the salt of them on his lips.

"You have no idea how long I have been meaning to tell you," Crowley mumbled and his voice was shaking.  
He smiled and lowered his head so his forehead was touching Aziraphale's. They both sighed.

"Why haven't you told me earlier, then?" Aziraphale asked. "We have been kissing and cuddling for days now -"  
"I was scared," Crowley said. He shrugged. "I figured that you wouldn't be ready to move on yet. I could tell that you still weren't sure about us." He shook his head to show Aziraphale that he didn't have to say anything, that he didn't have to defend himself. "I told you, angel, I don't want to scare you away," he said softly. "And it felt too fast. But - after what you just said at The Ritz, I just -" He shrugged again.

Aziraphale didn't know what to say to that and so he remained silent, touching Crowley's cheek gently to show him that he understood, though.

"Crowley?" he asked after a moment and the demon lifted his head and looked at him, waiting patiently for him to say what he wanted to say. "How long have you known?"  
"Do you promise not to laugh?" Crowley asked, cheeks turning pink. His voice didn't exactly sound like he was about to tell something funny.  
"I promise," Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley sighed.

"I've known - I mean, I think I didn't exactly know right away," he mumbled, ducking his head. "But I guess, it just - It just happened the second I saw you. You talked to me and told me about your sword, remember? And I - I couldn't help it, angel. I felt so lost and lonely after - But you, you made me feel - you made me feel valid again. Like I wasn't an outsider anymore. Like I wasn't just some disgusting creature."  
"Crowley, I -" Again, Aziraphale didn't know what to say.

They had been friends for more than six thousand years now. He couldn't imagine what it must have felt like for Crowley to take whatever Aziraphale had been willing to give before withdrawing again.  
He had always been so cautious around him, had always been worried to go too fast, to reveal his secret.  
He didn't know how he had done it. How he had not just given up.

"I didn't know," Aziraphale mumbled after a while, shaking his head slightly. "I am an angel, I can feel the love of others. But I never knew."  
"Well, yeah, that was the point, right?" Crowley gave him a weak smile that revealed the pain in his eyes. "If Hell had known - You know why they took me. They certainly would have done that much ealier if they'd known. I mean, loving an angel, what was I thinking, right?"

Aziraphale felt hot tears burning in his eyes and he shook his head. He didn't want to think about what they would have done to Crowley. What they would do to him if they ever found him again.

"There's no way I am going to let anything happen to you, Crowley," he said, still fighting tears. "I won't give you up, not ever again."

He pulled him close and pressed his face against his chest, feeling his warmth. And even though he had started crying he couldn't suppress a little chuckle.

"You're stuck with me now," he mumbled into the demon's chest.

Crowley sighed and put his arms around the angel, pulling him even closer.

"But if they find out -" He sighed again. "Are you sure you want this? I mean, they could be watching us everywhere. They -"

His voice sounded close to breaking and he seemed to be fighting back tears.

"I told you, angel, I don't want us to hide anymore. I wanna be able to kiss you in front of each and every one and I want them all to see. I want -" He was looking for words. "I want us to be real, I -"  
"We are real," Aziraphale interrupted. He looked up at him. "We are real, Crowley. And it's a bit too late to back out now, isn't it?"

More tears started rolling down Crowley's cheeks.

"That's rich, coming from you," he mumbled into the angel's curls as he pulled him close, and they both started chuckling about it.

"Could you call me that again?" Crowley asked after a while.  
"What do you mean, dear?"  
"The thing you called me at The Ritz," he mumbled. "Could you say at again? Please?"

Aziraphale hesitated.

"Oh, you mean when I called you my love?" he said with a gentle smile and the demon started nodding, looking almost desperate to hear it again now.  
"Could you do that again?" Crowley asked and even though they were so close to each other already, he stepped even closer.

Aziraphale gave him another smile.

"Crowley, my love," he whispered gently.  
"Again," Crowley said immediatly.  
"My love."  
"Again." He let his nose bump into Aziraphale's and gave him a sheepish smile. "Just one more time, please."  
"My love," Aziraphale smiled before pulling Crowley even closer to press a kiss to his forehead.

"We are behaving like love sick teenagers," he chuckled against the demon's soft skin.  
"Is that a bad thing?" Crowley asked and when Aziraphale didn't answer right away he wrapped his hand around the angel's wrist, looking at him with worry in his eyes. "Is that a bad thing, angel?" he repeated.  
"No, I didn't say that," Aziraphale said softly.

He touched Crowley's cheek.

"So it's a good thing, then?" Crowley asked after a moment of silence  
"Does everything have to be either good or evil?" the angel asked. He looked at Crowley and he could see him thinking about it.  
"No," he mumbled, shaking his head. "No, I guess it doesn't. But us, we're good, aren't we, angel?" He pointed at the angel, then at himself. "I mean, the two of us being - being like this now, we're good."  
"I think humas would call this being together," Aziraphale said, feeling a sudden heat in his cheeks as he blushed slightly.

Crowley opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"So we're - We're together now, yes? Like, for real? A real couple? Real - real lovers?" he mumbled and this time Aziraphale gave him a small nod without hesitation.  
"I guess we are," he said, smiling sheepishly.

Crowley's face grew softer than Aziraphale had ever seen it before. Suddenly all the anxiety and worry seemed to leave his body and his neck and shoulders looked so relaxed that Aziraphale almost didn't recognise his posture.

"I like this, angel," Crowley chuckled as he hugged Aziraphale close to his chest, his nose buried in his hair again. "I like it. It feels good."  
"Me too, Crowley, I like it too," Aziraphale nodded.

He cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss that made Crowley quietly sigh against his lips.

"I love you, Crowley," Aziraphale mumbled against his mouth.  
"I love you too, angel," Crowley said and when he parted from Aziraphale, there was a cheeky grin on his face. "Even though you just broke the rule of no kissing for tonight." 

The lipstick on the demon's mouth indeed had smudged slightly and Aziraphale was about to apologise when he felt Crowley's thumb on his lips as he tried to wipe parts of the lipstick from his lips as well.

"It's all over your mouth now," Crowley complained and he gasped slightly when Aziraphale pulled him into another, rather sudden kiss.  
"Doesn't matter, then, if more of it gets stuck to them, right?" he grinned against the demon's warm lips.


	21. Ah Oh, Those Summer Nights

On their way back, Crowley and Aziraphale simply couldn't stop touching each other.  
Again and again Aziraphale caught himself reaching out just to brush the demon's arm or the back of his hand or his cheek. Every now and then he even combed his hair with his fingertips, pushing back some of those lovely loose strands that were falling into his eyes. And Crowley gave him a gentle smile each time Aziraphale touched him, squeezing his knee as his hand was resting on the angel's thigh.

Every now and then he moved his fingers, making Aziraphale shiver slightly. He knew how ticklish the angel was and he seemed to enjoy teasing him like that immensely. So whenever Aziraphale started shivering beneath his fingertips, he just ignored it and kept tickling him until he'd finally made the angel laugh.  
Though he always stopped touching him as soon as Aziraphale told him to.

Most of the time, though, Aziraphale enjoyed that little game between them. He knew he was much stronger than the demon and could easily make him stop if he wanted to. So when he put one of his hands around Crowley's it cost him nearly no effort at all to keep his fingers in place.  
He gave him a cheeky smile when Crowley started pouting at him.

After a while, though, Crowley seemed to have given up. His fingers had stopped tickling the angel's thigh and he had settled for moving his fingertips in calming little circles against Aziraphale's palm instead, which made the angel sigh gently.  
He'd absolutely fallen in love with the sensation of Crowley's fingers doing that to his palm.

Overwhelmed by his feelings for the demon, Aziraphale leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, grinning slightly as he watched him blush.

Back at the bookshop, Crowley held Aziraphale back by his wrist before he could make his way into the kitchen.

"Angel, wait. Here," he mumbled and with his other hand he took Aziraphale's hand and dropped something small and warm into his hands. "Please, have this back. I don't want to risk losing it," he added sheepishly.

When Aziraphale looked down at their hands he saw a golden ring, lying flat on his palm. It was his own signet ring, the one he had given to Crowley earlier.

"Oh," he mumbled, watching the ring for a moment. "You don't want to keep it, then?"  
"Do you want me to keep it?" Crowley asked with some hesitation. 

Aziraphale tilted his head, then sighed gently.

"I wouldn't have said that if I didn't, Crowley," he said but now it was the demon who sighed.  
"I just - Are you sure?" he asked again. "I mean, it's been yours for such a long time now. And - Feels a bit sudden to give it away like that."

Aziraphale touched his arm.

"I am," he smiled and he could see a small smile forming on Crowley's lips, too. "I'm sure, my dear. I'd like you to have it."

Crowley hesitated for another moment before he chuckled softly, the smile on his lips growing bigger when he looked at Aziraphale.

"I'm gonna keep it, then," he mumbled, watching Aziraphale taking his hand. Gently, he put the ring back on the demon's finger.  
"I love you," Aziraphale whispered before pressing a kiss to the demon's fingertips.  
"I love you, too," Crowley whispered back.

Aziraphale started smiling. He loved hearing those words and he could feel the warm shiver they sent down his spine. When he wanted to tell Crowley about that, he was interrupeted by a sudden yawn.  
Surprised, he put his hands over his mouth.

"Oh dear, that has never happened to me before," he mumbled sheepishly, looking up at the demon who had started chuckling softly.

"You're just tired, angel, that's hardly the end of the world," he grinned, seemingly enjoying his little joke. "Go take a shower, I'll go after you." His face softened. "And you should get rid of all that lipstick while you're at it," he said, rubbing his thumb against the angel's lips.

Aziraphale touched his own lips.

"Lipstick?" he asked. "But I miracled it away before we headed home. You told me it was gone."  
"Maybe I lied." Crowley shrugged.  
"Oh, did you now?" Aziraphale asked, raising a brow at Crowley while the demon chuckled again, shaking his head slightly.  
"No, I didn't." He cupped the angel's cheeks with his hands and Aziraphale could feel the warm metal of his ring pressing into his skin. "But it might be all over your face again when I'm done here."

He chuckled again and pulled Aziraphale closer, pressing his lips to his face. He kissed the angel's mouth, then his chin and his cheeks, his neck, his forehead, even his eye lids.  
When he finally let go of him, he smiled at the angel who gulped for air. Crowley looked awfully smug.

"Wily old serpent," Aziraphale mumbled, shaking his head at him. He could feel himself blushing, hard.  
Crowley just raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

In the bathroom upstairs Aziraphale went to the mirror to wipe away the lipstick Crowley had left all over his face.  
He knew he could just miracle it away, he knew it would be a lot faster and much easier that way. But he had to admit that he kind of liked watching the colour of the lipstick come off and he liked the way his skin felt afterwards.

When he was finally done with that, Aziraphale took a quick shower before he changed into his pyjamas and went into the bedroom next door.

He found Crowley in front of his easel, drawing on a canvas.  
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile when he saw him.

Crowley had changed into his pyjamas as well but he had left the top on the bed. His dark hair, now untangled and free, gently moved around his bare shoulders whenever a soft breeze touched it.  
He had opened the window again as he didn't like it closed during the night.

"Can I see?" Aziraphale asked but the demon, who had noticed him and who had turned around, hiding the canvas behind his slim back, shook his head slightly.

He turned and moved the easel until it was facing the wall again so Aziraphale couldn't see what he was working on.

The angel nodded, trying to hide the slight disappointment he was feeling.  
He heard a sigh coming from Crowley who put away his brushes before he stepped closer, touching Aziraphale's hand lightly.

"I'm not done yet," he mumbled.  
"You have been working day and night on this for weeks now," Aziraphale said.

Crowley shrugged, then he nodded.

"Sometimes it's kind of hard for me to stay focused on something that takes a lot of time," he explained and his hands started playing with the laces that were sown to Aziraphale's pyjama bottoms while he was talking.  
"I know," Aziraphale said and when Crowley gave him a quizzical look he smiled. "I've had so much time to notice all those little things about you, dear", he said gently. "And I'm so glad it's all coming back now. I was worried it would be gone forever, I kind of started missing it."

He smiled at the demon.  
He meant what he had just said.

He had noticed that Crowley was slowly becoming his old self again. With all his wits and jokes and faults and quirks.  
And he loved it, he loved watching him returning to his old self. He loved being part of it and he loved the trust they both put into each other, allowing each other to be that close.

"I'm going to show it to you when it's finished, okay? I promise," Crowley said. He touched Aziraphale's cheek. "I just - I don't want anyone to see it before it's finished."  
"But why?" Aziraphale asked.

He wasn't used to asking questions. He'd never had the gut to do so, he'd been too afraid to end up like others who had asked questions, like Crowley.  
But these times were over. He wanted to understand Crowley and with him he wanted to be able to ask whatever questions he had in mind. He wanted to show Crowley that he was trying to grow, too.

"I - I don't know, I'm not sure." Crowley looked at his hands, his fingers were still playing with the laces of Aziraphale's pyjama bottoms. He shrugged. "I think I don't want you to have any expectations, I guess," he said. "Because if I screw up I -" He sighed. "I can't explain, angel," he mumbled.

Aziraphale smiled and kissed his jaw.

"You're quite the perfectionist," he nodded and he gave Crowley another soothing smile when he noticed how worried the demon looked. "And that's alright, my dear. Just be careful, yes? I don't want you to get too anxious about it. You're already being so anxious about everything else."

Crowley gave him a stunned look, like he'd just realised something that he hadn't paid much attention to before.

"Well, I'm not the only overly anxious one this room, am I?" he smiled and shook his head. "Let's go to sleep, shall we?" he said, taking Aziraphale's hand and pulling him over to the bed.

He waited for the angel to pull at the sheets, burying both of them beneath them. Then he sighed comfortably and nuzzled even closer to Aziraphale, the tip of his nose hidden away at his neck.  
The angel pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his temple.

Then they were silent for a while. Aziraphale felt sleep coming closer and closer.  
He slowly began to understand how Crowley had managed to sleep through an entire century. It really was like an addiction.

After a while, now just mere moments away from dozing off, Aziraphale noticed some movements of Crowley's feet beneath the sheets. He could also feel the demon's warm fingertips drumming gently on his belly.

He had noticed such things about Crowley before, especially since they had started sharing a bed. He knew that sometimes Crowley tended to start moving when all Aziraphale wanted to do was rest.  
His old energy seemed to return to him and while Aziraphale loved seeing the demon happier and more energetic again he was also desperate for a few hours of sleep.

But he tried not to think about that too much. He was too tired to think about much anyway.  
But just when Aziraphale was close to falling asleep again, despite the demon's movements, Crowley sighed quietly and lifted his head before turning around. He let his head drop on the angel's chest before sighing again, louder this time.

Aziraphale fought back a moan.  
He loved Crowley but he also really wanted to sleep right now.

"Angel?" Crowley asked after a while and Aziraphale sighed quietly. He opened an eye and blinked at him, waiting for the demon to continue. "Can I paint on your body?"

He touched Aziraphale's shoulder while he spoke and didn't meet his eyes, as if his mind was entirely somewhere else.  
He didn't even seem to notice how close the angel was to falling asleep.

"On my body?" Aziraphale repeated. He didn't like how foggy his head felt when he was tired. "Mhm, where?"  
"Where ever you let me," Crowley smiled and he grinned at him, looking like a child that had found the biscuit jar.

Aziraphale sighed and nodded, hoping secretly that Crowley would be quiet and lay down again now that he had somewhat agreed to his idea.

"Can I do it now?" the demon asked instead, sitting up, an excited look on his face.  
"Wha - Now?" Aziraphale asked and he had to fight back another yawn.  
"Yeah, that's what I just said," Crowley grinned.

But then something in his face changed.   
He leaned forward and touched Aziraphale's chin apologetically.

"Sorry, angel, you're tired," he said with a small nod. He really seemed to be noticing just now.  
"I am," Aziraphale agreed sleepily and it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open.

Crowley hesitated for a moment.

"I can't sleep," he mumbled after a mimute or two. "I love sleeping. But sometimes it's like - like I have to do something. Anything. I have to move or talk or - or think or -" He shook his head, suddenly looking a bit lost. "I can't keep still. Because it feels like I have to go on or - Otherwise it's like I'm - like I'm drowning or -"

He shook his head again and stopped talking. His hands that he had been moving almost constantly while had talked stopped and fell onto the mattress, lying there still and unmoving.

"I'm sorry, angel," he mumbled after a moment, ducking his head slightly. "Maybe - Maybe I should go downstairs and let you get some sleep."

Aziraphale reached out his hand and touched him by his wrists. He shook his head gently, grabbing Crowley's hand.

"No, it's alright, my dear," he said while he pressed a kiss to his fingertips. "Stay."

He heard Crowley reply but he couldn't quite make out what he was saying. He was speaking much too fast again, his words stumbling over each other in Aziraphale's tired brain.

"Crowley, love," he interrupted gently, closing his heavy eyelids for a moment. "I didn't understand a word you said," he admitted. "You're going too fast, my dear."

When he opened his eyes again and looked up at him, the demon was smiling gently.

"Sorry." His hand cupped the angel's cheeks. "I suggested that I could paint on your back," he repeated for him, slowly this time. "I paint, you sleep."

Aziraphale who felt too tired to protest just nodded and sat up. He pulled at his shirt, trying to get it off, but failed until Crowley chuckled and helped him. The demon folded the shirt carefully before putting it away.  
In the meantime Aziraphale grunted softly while he sank back into the bed's mattress. He rolled over until he was lying on his stomach, his arms crossed, his chin resting on top of them.

He closed his eyes and sighed.  
Then he just listened to Crowley and the noises he made while he reached for his supplies. He felt the demon sitting next to him and the mattress moved gently whenever Crowley moved.  
A cold fingertip touched the angel's back, sending a shiver down his spine.

Crowley chuckled.

For a moment he turned away again and started preparing and mixing his colours or something like that. Aziraphale could hear the slightly wet sounds of Crowley's brush that he used for mixing.  
But Aziraphale felt so close to drifting away now that he barely even noticed how he had started smiling into his crossed arms.

"Now keep still," Crowley whispered gently.

He felt the demon climbing on top of him, sitting down on his bum. His knees were pressing into the angel's hips as he stradled his back.  
It was a very new sensation that Aziraphale started loving immediatly.

Then Crowley started painting on his back and it made Aziraphale shudder slightly.

It felt weird. Very weird but also really good.  
Aziraphale felt a wet, slightly cold sensation where Crowley's brush touched him. And he shivered even more when he felt Crowley touching his skin as every now and then the heel of his hand brushed the angel's back.

"How does it feel?" Crowley asked with quite an obvious smile in his voice.  
Aziraphale who had closed his eyes again what felt like hours ago and who was too tired to give proper answers just grunted into his arms.  
Crowley chuckled.

"Your skin is really soft," he mumbled and then he stopped painting for a moment. He seemed to be looking at something back before he went back to painting again.  
The angel shivered when he felt Crowley's lips on his shoulder.

Aziraphale smiled and sighed slightly before he opened eyes again, suddely feeling startled.  
He felt a tickling sensation between his shoulder blades that he had not felt in a very long time. But he knew perfectly well what it meant.

"Crowley," he mumbled. He lifted his head. "I'm ticklish," he added sleepily. But the demon did not understand.  
"I know," he said and Aziraphale could hear the grin in his voice as he felt his warm fingertips tickling the skin on his back.  
"No." He suppressed another yawn. "My wings," he whispered, "you'll trigger them, dear."

Crowley stopped tickling him.  
Aziraphale heard him chuckle before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his back, right between his shoulder blades.

"I'll be careful, then," he promised.  
He continued drawing, his touches much more careful now.

Aziraphale sighed happily and fell asleep, a content smile on his face.

When he opened his eyes again and lifted his head, the angel noticed that it wasn't dark outside anymore. The sun had risen and its gentle morning light was touching his skin with warm fingertips.  
Aziraphale yawned and tilted his head. He saw Crowley standing in front of his canvas, drawing again.

"Morning," the angel mumbled before he moved his arms a bit. They had gone numb over night and now they were tickling and it felt like a thousand small ants were living under his skin.  
"Good morning, angel," Crowley smiled.

He brushed a few loose strands of hair from his face and sat down on the bed, right next to the angel. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"It's finished," he told him with a smile.  
"I hope so," the angel replied. He couldn't hide the smile in his voice. "You kept me awake for quite some time, my dear."

Crowley started laughing.

"I wasn't talking about the painting on your back. I meant the one I've been working on for the last few days," he said with a chuckle. "But yeah," he added, "I finished the one on your back as well."

Aziraphale lifted his head and sat up.  
He yawned again and started streching, feeling the blood return to his fincertips.

"Well, if it's finished, can I see it now?" he asked the demon and Crowley sighed.  
"Yeah, I guess you can," he mumbled. "I promised, didn't I?"

He got up from the bed and held out his hands for the angel to take them. When Aziraphale did so he helped him to his feet, pulling him into a kiss before he let go of him.  
He turned around and Aziraphale noticed a few speckles of paint on his torso. There was a light blue one on his hip and Aziraphale couldn't help but touch it. It made the demon shiver slightly.

"Hey," he chuckled, looking down at his hip and touching some of the speckles with his fingers. "Oops," he mumbled. "Guess that means we'll have a bath later."

He grinned and turned around, showing Aziraphale an old camera.  
They had found it in one of the angel's old drawers a few days ago and Crowley had decided that he would like to keep it.

"Show me your back, angel," Crowley asked him but he pressed the button of the camera before Aziraphale had moved at all.

He lowered his head sheepishly and looked at the floor while he turned.

Then he heard the noise of the camera again and felt Crowley's lips on his shoulder.

"Look," the demon smiled, handing Aziraphale a coloured polaroid. 

He saw himself looking at Crowley who had taken the photo without him knowing. He looked happy, almost confident.  
He liked it.

Crowley also handed him the second photograph, the one he had taken of his back.  
He gasped gently.

"This - oh dear, this is very beautiful, Crowley," he mumbled, looking at the photo.

Crowley had painted a pair of wings on his back. But they weren't made of feathers, they were made of flowers.  
He had drawn dozens and dozens of yellow sunflowers on his back.

"They kind of remind me of you," Crowley said with a sheepish smile, pushing back another loose strand of hair. "Sunflowers, I mean."  
"I love it," Aziraphale said, pulling him into a kiss. He really did, he loved it. He gave Crowley a smile. "And now show me the other one, dear, I'm dying to see it."


	22. (Bot Quite) A Day at the Races

"Mhm, what are you doing there, love?" Aziraphale sighed. He felt two long arms that wrapped around his shoulders, Crowley shrugged and buried his nose in his hair.  
"I'm hugging you, obviously," the demon mumbled into his neck, planting a few kisses there. He made Aziraphale shiver.

Aziraphale began zu smile and leaned back on his old armchair, sinking even deeper into Crowley's arms.

"But I'm trying to read, my dear boy," he mumbled. He tried to nudge him away gently but the demon did not care. He started kissing the soft skin behind Aziraphale's ear.  
"Maybe that's why I'm hugging you."

Crowley wouldn't give up, even when Aziraphale nudged him again. He just buried his nose behind his ear, hugging him even tighter. His lips brushed the side of his neck and Aziraphale felt another shiver running down his spine.

"What do you mean?" he asked, closing his eyes.  
"Well, you've been here reading all day, angel," Crowley complained, putting special emphasis on 'all day'. "You've been ignoring me. It's been hours, angel."

Aziraphale looked at him, raising an eyebrow at Crowley whose face seemed to hover just a few inches above his own.

"I am most certainly not ignoring you, my dear. And I am quite sure that you won't die if I do not pay you enough attention for a couple of hours," Aziraphale smiled.

He brushed a bit of Crowley's soft hair from his face as it was brushing over his face and tickling his cheeks.

"No, but I think I migh." Crowley tried to remain a serious face but he failed and started grinning after a few seconds.  
"Have you found a spot for the painting, then?" the angel asked, changing the subject slightly while he closed the book in his lap.

He reached for Crowley's head and started playing with the demon's hair that kept tickling his cheeks whenever Crowley moved his head.  
Aziraphale loved the feeling of it. Just like the gentle massage Crowley was giving his shoulders while they were talking.

"I'm not sure," Crowley said after a while. "There's not much space left on the walls, you see and - Well -" He sighed and Aziraphale touched his chin gently, giving him a smile.  
"Well, I've had an idea." He sat up, still smiling at Crowley, and motioned for the demon to follow him.

His book clutched under his arm, he lead Crowley through the empty shop until they reached one of the bookshelves. There was some space on the wall, right above the shelf.

"You could put it here," Aziraphale suggested, pointing at the bit of bare wall above the shelf.

Aziraphale smiled and used the opportunity of standing by the bookshelf to put his book back where it belonged. He reached out and touched the book's spine. He couldn't help but smile at the Name. Oscar Wilde.

"But - But that's the shelf with your favourites," Crowley observed. "I mean, your most favourite favourites." He looked at Aziraphale who shrugged, not quite sure what Crowley was trying to tell him. "I'm not sure if we should have - I just - I don't think my painting is good enough to put it on the wall, angel." He gulped. "I mean, are you sure?"  
"Absolutely," Aziraphale said. "And if you ever call that painting ugly again I -"  
"I didn't call it ugly," Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale smield at the demon but Crowley did not look happy.

"Now go and get your painting," Aziraphale said, touching him by his arm. "Then we'll see what it looks like on the wall. And if you don't like it we can put it somewhere else, alright?"

Crowley sighed and nodded. He went to get the painting and then returned with it in his arms.  
He hesitated, looking at the wall. He looked concerned.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and two small hooks appeared, perfect for carrying a medium-sized painting.

"Now it's your turn, love." He nodded at the demon, a gentle smile on his face. "Try another miracle."

But Crowley still hesitated.  
During the last few days Aziraphale had caught the demon cursing quietly under his breath every now and then whenever he had failed on another miracle. When Aziraphale had asked him about it Crowley had pretended to be fine. That it didn't bother him at all. But Aziraphale had seen his face, had seen how angry he'd been with himself.

He touched the demon's back and gave him another nod.

Crowley sighed at that and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he stared at the wall like he was trying to make it disappear.  
Aziraphale tried not to chuckle at the sight of that.

Then Crowley snapped his fingers and the painting that he had been holding in his arms disappeared. It went straight to the hooks on the wall but almost fell and looked a bit crooked when it finally stopped trembling on its hooks.

Aziraphale stepped a bit closer and examined it for a moment. He had to admit that he felt as excited about it as he had when Crowley had shown it to him earlier this morning.

Crowley had painted the Garden of Eden. There was the big wall with the Eastern Gate that he had been sent to to protect all those years ago. It's where the two of them had met, where they had talked to each other for the first time.  
Aziraphale smiled when he saw himself on the big wall. Crowley had drawn him in his long white robes that he had worn back then. Bright sunlight made his light blonde hair appear golden and his wings were unfolded, throwing big shadows on the wall beneath his bare feet.

He must have looked like this when Crowley had seen him on the wall for the first time. It was like seeing everything through the demon's eyes. Like he could revisit that moment again and again now just by looking at the painting.

"That's exactly how I saw you," Crowley mumbled as if he'd heard Aziraphale's thoughts. "Everything in that garden was so beautiful, everything felt good and - nice." He looked at Aziraphale with a small grin on his lips before he started gazing at the painting again. "But it was you who caught my eye, angel."

Aziraphale put his arm around the demon's waist and pulled him close, nuzzling his nose against his collar bone.

"You did well," he smiled and he felt Crowley shiver slightly when he pressed a kiss to his neck.  
"A bit crooked, though," Crowled mumbled.  
"I think you know I wasn't talking about putting the painting on the wall." Aziraphale looked at it again. "Actually, I rather like it that way," he said with a little shrug. But Crowley did not agree, he shook his head.  
"Well, I don't," he said. "I like things neat and clean. This is not neat, it's - it's -"

Aziraphale started chuckling which made Crowley stop talking. The demon sighed softly and watched Aziraphale snap his fingers.  
The painting's upper corner moved, just a bit.

"I know, love," he said. "Better now?"  
Crowles just nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks, angel."

"So, er, what're we going to do now?" he asked after a small pause. He was looking at Aziraphale expectingly.   
"Huh? I don't know," the angel mumbled. He let his head rest on the demon's shoulder and closed his eyes. He loved being close to him, he loved being able to feel his warmth and smell his scent. "Is there anything you have in mind?" he asked. "Because if I remember correctly I was actually kind of busy until someone stopped me from reading."

He smiled at the demon who just shrugged like he didn't know what he was talking about.

"We could have a lazy day," he suggested.  
"A lazy day?" Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head. "Haven't we been doing that for the past week already?"  
"Alright, how about music, then?" Crowley said. "We haven't been doing music yet. Yeah, I think I'd like to listen to some."

He wriggled free from Aziraphale's hug and stepped through the room. When he stopped in front of the old-fashioned grammophone he gave Aziraphale a look, like he was waiting for his allowance to go on and touch it.  
The angel just gave him a small nod and Crowley smiled before he turned to the old records. He didn't seem to know what he was looking for and after a while he chose one blindly and just shrugged when he glanced at the cover.

He put the vinyl on the player and put the needle down gently. Then he grimaced.

"And what kind of music is that supposed to be?" he asked Aziraphale, turning around to face him. The angel who had come closer started chuckling when he saw Crowley's face, like he was tasting something sour in his mouth.  
"I used to dance the gavotte to 'that kind of music'," he told him happily, nodding along to the music. "I really miss that dance," he added with a slightly embarrassed smile.

Crowley just looked at him.

"What's the gavotte?" he asked him, confusion on his face.   
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.  
"You didn't sleep on the gavotte, my dear, did you?" he asked with a playful little gasp. He felt a smile on his lips.  
"No, angel," Crowley said when he saw that smile and understood what it meant. "You don't have to show me - I'm sure there's a reason it's gone. Stop it, angel, that's embarrassing, please don't, no -"

He gave up on trying to convince Aziraphale that he did not have to show him the gavotte. He knew that Aziraphale wouldn't stop now that he had started, and so he just sighed and sat down on the chair in front of Aziraphale's desk.  
He put his chin in his palm and watched him.

"Well go on, then. Show me," he said, trying to sound annoyed. He leaned back and crossed his arms, waiting for Aziraphale to start doing whatever he had to do.

The angel chuckled happily and started dancing the gavotte. He had not done this for a very long time but he found that he still knew all the steps and little jumps and turns by heart.  
And when he looked at Crowley, a big smile on his face, he noticed that the demon didn't look as annoyed anymore as he had before. He still did not look very happy about Aziraphale's idea to start dancing the gavotte but there was that little smile that had started growing on his lips.

"You should try it," Aziraphale chuckled, feeling a bit out of breath. The song started fading into another one.  
"Over my dead body." Crowley shook his head. "I will never ever dance the gavotte, angel. Never."

Aziraphale who had come over to Crowley sat down on his lap. He chuckled at his surprised face and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I know," he said with a grin. "It was a joke."  
"Ha, ha, very funny." Crowley tried to look annoyed again but he failed miserably. The smile on his lips gave him away.

He leaned back a bit and touched the angel's thigh as he did so. Aziraphale couldn't help but notice the butterflies in his stomach.

"Do you know any other dance that is not the gavotte?" Crowley asked.  
"I, er -" Aziraphale ducked his head and felt a sudden wave of heat in his cheeks as he started blushing hard. "No, I do not," he admitted. Crowley grinned at him.  
"I could teach you," he said with a crooked smile on his lips. "I know some steps." He shrugged. "There was a time, you know, when it was easier to tempt someone during a nice close dance at a ball."

Aziraphale looked at him.  
He didn't know how to feel about this offer. He didn't know whether Crowley was telling the truth or not. The demon never exactly lied but he tended to tell half-truths sometimes to embarrass the angel later.

"Do you know how to waltz?" he asked after another moment of consideration. The demon just shrugged.  
"Yeah, it's quite easy, actually," he said.  
"So, can you teach me?" Aziraphale continued.

Crowley smiled at him and nodded, pushing the angel from his lap.

"But it won't work with - that kind of music," he said, stepping closer to the grammophone. He started looking through the records again. "We'd need something that - something that's more - ah yes, I guess that will do."

He put on a collection of classic waltzes and nodded. With an elegant snap of his fingers he paused the music again.  
He looked a bit smug when he turned back to Aziraphale, a grin on his face while he brushed a bit of loose hair from his forehead.

"Your miracles are getting better and better," the angel observed with a proud smile.  
"Well, my teacher has been rather patient with me," Crowley said. "Oh, and he certainly knows how to keep me motivated," he continued with a smug grin before he pulled Aziraphale into a quick kiss.

"Now, take my hand, just like that," he told the angel who had to suppress a moan.  
He hated when Crowley teased him with a kiss. He knew how hard it was to resist him. He had to know.

But Aziraphale obeyed. He gave him his hand and waited for Crowley to continue.

"Now put the other one around my waist. No," he chuckled gently, "not there, angel. I said my waist. Look, here."

Aziraphale gave him a sheepish little smile, and Crowley returned that smile, touching the angel's cheek before he took his hand again.

"Alright, the steps aren't too hard," he said. "You'll be leading. We both know you're more of leader." He grinned at him. "But for now I need you to follow my steps, alright?"

Crowley startwd showing Aziraphale the steps. He ubderstood that there were basically three of them and that he just had to repeat them over and over again.

"It kind of looks like a square," he observed after a while and Crowley nodded.  
"Yeah, you're right. Now try again."

They practised a bit more until the angel felt like he knew what he had to do. Crowley gave him another approving nod.

"And now for the rhythm," he said. "It'll feel a bit weird at first but you'll get used to it. Now, listen and let me lead you."

He lead the angel while they continued repeating the steps they had just learned, Crowley whispered numbers, tapping Aziraphale's back to show him what the rhythm felt and sounded like.  
"One, two, three," he counted quietly. "One, two, three," he repeated over and over again. "One, two, three. One - yeah, you got it."

He nodded at him.

"Let's try with music, what do you think?" Crowley asked. He tilted his head when he noticed Aziraphale's hesitation. "Hey, no one's looking. It's just you and me. Well, and those plants over there if you count them." He gave him a crooked smile. "And I promise not to make fun of your dancing. And the plants wouldn't dare, either." He glared at the plants as if to prove his point and Aziraphale couldn't help but start laughing when he noticed that the plants had started shivering slightly.  
"You're always making fun of me, Crowley," he said but without accusation.  
"Yeah, that's probably right," Crowley amitted. He raised his eyebrow and gave Aziraphale a nod. "Now come on, let's try this with music."

Crowley snapped and Aziraphale got completely distracted by his teeth that bit into his lower lip as he did so. The angel chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to his chin before music started playing and Crowley started counting.  
He pushed Aziraphale gently, nodding at him every once in a while to show him that he did well.

The angel kept staring at his own feet, trying not to misplace them. He felt the tip of his tongue between his theeth as he concentrated hard on where he put his feet.

"Just look at me, angel," Crowley whispered. He smiled at him as Aziraphale lifted his head slowly. "Don't look at your feet, just let them move. Try to feel, not think."  
"Feel not think," Aziraphale repeated mockingly but he tried. He tried not to look at their feet and he tried even harder moving them without stepping on Crowley's toes all the time.

He bit his lip just like Crowley had done a few moments ago when he had tried to concentrate on performing a miracle. He lifted his head again and looked at the demon's face, feeling a smile on his lips that suddenly felt very dry. He licked them.  
Then everything happened a bit fast.

Aziraphale stepped on Crowley's foot that he had moved a tiny bit too late. They lost balance and since they tried to hold on to each other for support, both of them stumbled and fell to the ground.  
Crowley was the first one to burst out laughing.

"What - What happened?" Aziraphale asked him and Crowley who was lying half-way on top of him chuckled and pushed a bit of loose hair from his face.  
"I think I got a bit distracted," he admitted with a smile.  
"Distracted?" Aziraphale tilted his head. "How?"  
"Well." Crowley shrugged and lifted his hand. He let the tip of his thumb brush the angel's lips. "You did that small thing with your tongue and I just -" He just shrugged again and chuckled.  
"You're even worse than a love sick teenager, my dear," Aziraphale laughed. 

A sudden kiss made him shut up.   
The angel sighed and pulled Crowley closer.

"So what?" the demon whispered against his lips.  
"Oh, shut up, you wily old serpent," Aziraphale told him gently, burying his hands in his hair and pulling him even closer.


End file.
